Sound & Vision
by nosenseorgravity
Summary: Throughout the centuries there are many things Merlin have seen, but never did he expect to be turned into a child, introduced to a new form of druids, educated about an unknown sentient being, and charged with a mission to protect Harry Potter.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: This is my first time writing a crossover fic, so I'm really excited and nervous. This story is experimental for the most part as I glide my way through the universe of both Harry Potter and Merlin. The story will include Original Characters, but I hope that doesn't sway you guys off._

 _If there any mistakes or questions please do not be discourage to tell me whether it be via review or PM :) And apologies for any grammar mistakes, English is not my first language._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise nor do I own BBC's Merlin, but I do own the OC(s) that will appear in this fanfiction._

* * *

I

INTO THE DARKNESS, COME OUT OF THE LIGHT

In the dark there shriveled on the damp stone floor was a being made of clay. Its head was grotesque with its dry wrinkly skin of brown. Its mouth was broken and ajar with his sharp teeth poking out. It had no eyes and no nose in terms of what can be seen. There were slits around his neck that seems to be gills. Its arms were crossed and long entwined with its sharp claws that could tear through metal. What an interesting creature, but it was sure as dead. It was battered and ruined with the cracks all but diminished, fading larger and larger with each growing second like an hourglass gathering the sand.

Beyond its breaking remains, a trail of blood was behind it. There lay a human garbed in green who lay facing the floor. It was man that was for sure with his burly body, but no one could know who he was because of the lack of his head. And if that was gruesome enough, there were far more gruesome sights to behold with a trail of bodies that littered this place. Some corpses were disemboweled by creatures like that clay being. And the bodies were lining up and meshed with others.

What could have happened here? It was like a slaughter house that stunk of blood in the air and the rotting flesh that lay. Down below the spiraling steps of gold, the blood had flowed that was mixed with something black. It was sure to be blood, but the blackness seemed unnatural, so it must have belonged to the creatures that met their fate. Although, what that fate was entirely questionable whether it be done by blade or wand. This was a place where battle had begun, but the victor was undecided as it seemed no one was alive to claim that title.

This was a place you shouldn't be in. And yet here stood a woman amongst it all.

She was a misplaced figure in the sight of rotting decay. Her skin was white as the winter's snow as it seemed to glow a tint of silver like a star in the dark. She wore a white long-sleeved tunic under the long leather brown vest. Her blonde hair was swept behind her back in a tight ponytail, and her fringe were left, covering on her forehead. She walked slowly not minding the blood that stained her black laced up boots. Her black leather trousers flex in every movement she made. And her eyes were covered by brown googles with golden embellishment around the lens holder. She looked down, avoiding the bodies that lay on the floor.

Slowly, the bodies disintegrate into ash and dust, including the humans that lay. She seemed to follow the trail of blood as she climbed down the golden stairs that ended into the demented abyss. It seemed a cold current of wind blew from below, chilling her skin yet she did not care.

Red droplets continued to fall into the void, making a splash like a tear hitting the ground. And when the darkness seemed to cover everything, a faint blue light blazed in the room in the shape of an orb. It was then the woman took action.

She brought out a thin, white, and gleaming coil of rope. It seemed light, flexible, and slender yet do not let its appearance deceive you. She tied the other end around the golden rail of the stairs, making sure it's tightly in place. And afterwards, she threw the rest into the void. Slowly, she descended down the stairs.

The orb floated into the void, showing the creases of its rock-strewn sides, descending down below. It helped the woman, but not from sight. It was to find something of hers. It stopped at a body, lying hewn on the bedrock. His face was pale and his eyes were dead with his head was bashed in; still bleeding heavily. It circled around the body, but then zooming out into another.

Although this time, it was a boy, barely of the age of eight. His skin was pale not like death, but at the edge of it. He suffered a head wound that was covered by the bangs of his black hair. His eyes were closed as though he was sleeping, but this was different. This one was alive.

The orb disappeared and the woman appeared yet again, pulling the rope and letting it fall on the ground. She was crouching over the body in worry. Her arm was stretched out with her fingers on his forehead. The woman closed her eyes and whispered. Suddenly, there was a sharp gasp and his bloody hand shot up, gripping her wrist.

The woman didn't even seem surprised but worry was etched on her face. It was obvious that she cared much for the wounded boy, and for a woman like her to be in a place like this had be a huge risk. Slowly, his eyes opened weakly, revealing his cerulean eyes. He seemed confused and dazed like he was floating in a dream until it hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes shot up in fear and he breathed so desperately, looking around the place. He tried to sit up, but the woman stopped him, putting her hands on his chest and gently pushing him down.

"Easy, there." She said. "You're hurt."

Her voice was soft yet enchanting; rich with something entirely new. There was something different in her accent. Clear English, but quite as it is mixed with something foreign. He felt like he knew her but the buzzing sound in his head distracted him. There was a stinging feeling at his head, and so he lifted a hand to touch it, but he was stopped by the honey blonde woman who he now recognized as his guardian.

The boy opened his mouth to ask, but found no strength to speak; only to let out an incoherent whisper that sounds entirely like a wisp of wind. This had irritated him to a fault, but the pain and dread overruled that factor. His guardian seemed to be examining his wounds. There was a click and it seemed she had been carrying a medical kit with her. Strange, he didn't notice it at all.

There were shrieks in the distance and he could see the woman knit her brows in distress as she hastily wraps a cloth around his wound as a temporary bandage.

The shrieks were getting louder. It had the ability to make his blood run cold. He glanced at the woman, who seemed not to care. And then there was an audible slice in the air, the shrieks were silenced. A few feet away from them there was a thud.

There were light footsteps approaching that were barely perceptible enough. It was only after a second, a figure came into view. It was a tall man with a lean yet muscly figure. He had a stoic and quite handsome face, although, hidden underneath a deep cowl that hid everything, but his eyes. His eyes were seen as it blazes blue and grey, piercing his soul with a single glance. Under his black cloak, a velvet red robe with intricate markings can be seen. This was the kind of man that shouldn't be angered. And a regal eminence he produced had got him in a state of wonder.

He was his second guardian.

"We must hurry!" he said, looking down at his limp body.

"Wait a second." The woman pleaded and after she had secured the bandage, she nodded at the silver blond. At this movement, he crouched down before his lying body and scooped him in his arms. And then, they ran off.

It wasn't a horrible feeling, but it was uncomfortable. The wound that the woman bandaged had stung his side, burning with every movement he made. The two that accompanied him ran through the corridors, getting the hell out where ever they were.

"Where is Sir Leon?" the woman asked as they run through a bleak stony pathway.

The silver blond carrying him responded, "How should I know where that bloody fool is?"

Sir Leon…the name sounded familiar to the boy. The flashes of memories invaded his mind to let him concluded that Sir Leon was his third guardian. So many flashes…but his heads told him to sleep like they were but lullabies.

His vision became blurry and all he remembered were the shrieks of inhuman voices, explosive blasts of whatever it was, and clangs of metal on metal.

* * *

Dominik was getting sick of this rescue. It may provide him the exercise that he needed to refine his swordsmanship again, but the prospect that he was battling not only what's left of those gruesome creatures over the years but also stick waving lunatics (Albeit, he is one of those stick waving lunatics). A green flash of light skidded past him, making him zig zag to avoid getting hit.

This was getting really annoying for his taste.

They ran out of the cave, entering the tunnels that could potentially take them to the exit. Taking a sharp turn, they arrived in a large basilica, their designated area of meeting with Sir Leon. No longer was the place the mountainous caverns, the place was marble lined with many murals of people painted around the room.

He gave the boy's frail body to Anastasia as an incoming group of Death Eaters lay ahead. When the boy had closed his eyes, Anastasia had slightly panicked at the sight.

It usually disturbed him to see the blonde restrain so much emotion, but he admired the effort. She sat next to the boy with his head on her lap, and Anastasia had a whispered a spell and formed shield up around him and her that glowed blue. They both knew they were after the wounded boy amongst them. Most of their spells were projected to hit her shield, but it never scratched or met its mark.

Dominik swung his long sword, decapitating the first Death Eater to stumble inside the tunnels.

The wizards were trying to break her shield, but anyone who knew her magic would know that it was for naught. Anastasia threw her hand, muttering an incoherent spell that made her enemies crumbles into dust. Sometimes this was a side he both admired and feared.

He knew she had learned for the best.

He slashed through a creature that came charging at him, running his sword through its chest before stretching out his wand out and pointing it at another one of mindless minions.

" _Impendimenta!"_ he casted and the wizard seemed to slow down as if locked in time. " _Confringo!"_

His grey eyes glowed and the frozen wizard was pushed backwards with

This had continued on from sometime with already going around the room like a dance in a feast. Dominik was never one to result in using magic, but ever since his attendance to Hogwarts, he started using it more. Although, it was not to the point he would let it do everything for him. He had the house elves for that.

Soon the battle was done and there was no enemy to face, but he could be wrong.

There were footsteps behind him and he spun, intending to slice his foe, but there was a clang and his blow was deflected. He looked to see his sword at level with another sword wielded by none other than Sir Leon.

"Did you miss me?" he said cheekily.

Dominik glared at him and sheathed his sword in a blink of an eye. Leon blinked in surprise; it seemed he would never get use to his _abilities_.

"Where have you been?" Dominik asked coldly.

Leon and Dominik had never gotten along much. They respected each other's entitlements, but they had their disagreements. Leon was an enigma wrapped in a burrito (Roland's words, not his) that was connected into the young boy's life. He didn't know how, but it seemed gratifyingly important as Sir Leon claims to be an immortal Knight of the Round Table which made the tall blond laugh. Although not too long after that day, his testament was proven to be true.

Sir Leon, or rather Leon Nighy as he is mostly known, was a tall and fit man with his long curly brown locks and grey eyes. His scruff begun to weather down and grow, giving him a much older look. He was dressed in traditional medieval armor with his chainmail and red tunic with the emblem of a golden dragon. And a sword stuck at his hip.

"The portkey!"

The knight looked to see Anastasia, staring upon him, gripping the boy close to him. There was gladness but dread present in a glint of his eye. He pulled out a wooden dragon, moving near her. Dominik followed suit, standing near the knight. He held it out as each person, positioned their hands above the portkey. Anastasia struggled, making Dominik take the boy from her (again), adjusting his hold to make it tight and secure but not suffocating.

With a deep breath, they clutched the item, spiraling down and disappearing into thin air.

* * *

His head ached and his stomache growled. Merlin blinked his eye blearily to see the blurred images of his surroundings. At first, he thought he was back at his old room in Camelot, but when things became clearer, he panicked.

He jolted up from his bed, ignoring the stinging pain from all over his body. Where was he? He looked and scanned where he was, processing everything. Merlin was sitting on a large four poster bed with a thick and comfy green blanket on him. He was dressed in a white linen set of pajamas and—wait!

Merlin didn't know if this was someone's sick prank or this was just a dream. His hands were small, child-like, the hands that belong to a child. He touched his face, feeling the soft skin, absent with the feeling of his scruff or beard, or even his usual old and wrinkly skin. The warlock breathed in and out, calming his nerves about something that could be perceived as a joke.

Around the room, he looked to see a vanity with a wide mirror. Stumbling off bed, he fell, tangled in the sheets. He groaned in pain as he fell on his side, but it wasn't enough to put him down. With haste and enough strength, he kicked the sheets off, scurrying to the mirror. As he looked, he was torn between being fascinated or bloody horrified.

Staring back at him was a child that wasn't him. Yeah, it was him, but last time he checked he was an old man, waiting in the shores of Avalon; not a lanky, big-eared child. He looked like himself before in his true younger years with his pale skin and blazing blue eyes. His cheeks more prominent than before.

Noting the simple grandeur present in the room, it wasn't as grand as the rooms from Camelot, but it was just as beautiful with its shiny wooden furnishings and marble floors. Merlin noted the green-colored walls reminding him of the colors of the forest.

Whose room was this?

His mind wandered, scrapping the bottom of the barrel for something of conclusion. All he remembered were voices—voices of the Old Religion, telling him a mission he needed to finish. Obviously, his mission (rather destiny) was to wait for Arthur arrival, but there was something else in the making. There was a drumming sensation, making him lurch and lean forwards; his hand waving out to find anything to steady himself with. A wooden lampstand was what he gripped, treating it like a cane.

Only yesterday he was an aching old man, waiting tirelessly upon the lake's shore. And the next he was a small boy in an unknown room.

There was a knock and he spun around to see a familiar face pop out.

"Morning!" Leon came in with a tray of food for him; a big grin in place.

He wore muggle clothes composed of dark blue jeans tucked inside a pair of black boots, and a white sweater that fitted him perfectly. His curly mop of hair was the same as before and his scruff seemed to have been more nicely trimmed that before. This surprised him especially with how Leon was happy in this situation.

The knight placed the tray on a small round table and pulled the chair back for him. This alerted the warlock, surprised at the gesture and more importantly—his friend was alive.

"L-Leon?" Merlin asked in shock.

The said knight turned around, humming in response.

"Is that really you?"

What happiness that was on the knight's face faded as a dour realization hit its mark. Leon was so preoccupied with the happiness of his friend being discovered that he didn't realize that gravity of the situation that would seem to him.

"Yes,"

The last thing he knew Merlin would do was flinging his small body to him, wrapping his thing arms around his torso like the child he seems to be. Leon froze for a moment before wrapping his arms around his small body. Despite the small frame, Leon felt the same familiarity he did centuries ago. For a moment, he felt like he was in his own time again, back in Camelot with the rest of the knights…but whatever perfect trance there was over with a flick of Merlin's wrist.

The young boy parted from him when realization and confusion had befallen him.

"H-How are you here?" Merlin questioned, fumbling over his words, feeling the weight of it all. "You are supposed to be dead…If you are here, then…"

Hope flashed in his eyes. "Is also Arthur?"

Sadness hit Leon like an arrow. The knight had learned of his friend's unjust fate in the hands of the Old Religion. To be forced to roam the world until his destiny had been completed. You could say the same with Leon, but his was a surprise that came when he noticed he wasn't aging. Unlike Merlin, he did not have a purpose to why he had eternal life—always thinking it was a punishment for all he had done to innocent sorcerers alike under the hand of Uther. It was like gift (a curse if you ask him) given to him by no one in particular (although he suspected the Druids at one point). There was no box, no instructions, and no manufacturer's warranty. It just was.

To stand beside a fellow friend and immortal with a heavy burden on his shoulders was devastating. All these years Merlin was still an optimistic man with hope always lingering even in his darkest day and night? Hopefully, that had not changed.

And for how long his friend had waited for their king to come back…well…he's not yet coming back.

Leon's befallen face gave all the explanation that was needed for Merlin to figure how he came to be. He had been shrewd like that. It was the face of someone who had seen a lot, been through more than any man should. It was a face he knew all too well. The young warlock just nodded, backing away, yet a distant smile was on his face. As optimistic as he can be, it was better to have Leon with him after all the loneliness he had endured.

So that's the bright side!

"So, how am I a boy?" Merlin asked in a chirpier voice, gesturing to his whole small body.

Leon smiled alongside him. "Well, that's we don't know why really."

"We?" Merlin's eyes lightened up. "There are other knights?"

The knight rubbed the back of his neck. "No…there isn't."

Leon sat on the chair, sighing as the weariness caught up with him.

"Then tell me."

"Merlin," the knight looked at him. "It's a long story. And the food is going cold."

He gestured to the tray of delicious looking foods. Merlin sat on a chair opposite of Leon, facing the tray. It annoyed him a little bit that he had to jump to get to sit on the chair. The young warlock looked at the food on his plate and gawked at it. It looked like a meal fit for a king—actually more than a king, it's for an emperor.

Merlin had always been into the simple things in life, and he was also so modest and casual—careful not to get any unwanted attention to himself. But the food in front of him is probably the most expensive thing he could ever have. The food on his plate was something hadn't really recognized.

"It's called a _Tarte flambée._ " Leon informed, catching the odd look Merlin made. "I know how you feel. It looks odd, doesn't it?"

"Did you make it?"

Leon laughed. "Good gracious, no! I have no skill in cooking whatsoever, but my friend does."

"Who is this friend?" Merlin starts eating the dish with delight at the delicious flavor.

"Merlin," the knight clasped his hands together. "How much do you remember about the tunnels?"

The young warlock's brows furrowed. "Not much. Just a lot of fighting…there were voices…a woman and a cloaked man."

"Did the woman have blonde hair?"

"Yes. And the man had such cold eyes." He remembered.

"Those two were the reason I found you."

"How?"

Leon sighed. "It's a bit of a long story." He shifted his seat.

"I reckon it's a story worth hearing."

"But I am not the right person to tell it." Leon said when a knock was heard.

They shifted to see a woman and a man enter the room. The man was tall, taller than Percival and Leon himself. The man held himself in regality and demand, intimidating Merlin just a little bit. He had slick platinum blond hair that was a bit wavy, and the cold blue eyes that stared right at his soul—and it didn't help that his thick eyebrows that added to that. The man wore a lavish suit that added to his formality.

It was the cloaked man from the tunnels. And looking at him right now, he might as well prefer when the man was cloaked.

The woman, on the other hand, had an ethereal aura about her that seemed so enchanting and comforting. She was of average height, reaching until the man's neck. She seemed very friendly and gentle yet there was something dangerous about it that should not be ignored yet it is. She had blonde hair that cascading off her shoulders in waves of gold while her fringe remained perfectly above her blue eyes that were soft as the sky above the sea.

Like the man, she held herself in regality but was something more akin to softness. This was the woman that healed him.

Leon stood up, smiling. "Merlin, I want you to meet Dominik Gabor,"

The blond man nodded in acknowledgement at him, his eyes clearly brimming with amusement and curiosity.

"And this is Anastasia Redford,"

The blonde woman smiled in acknowledgement that made it feel like all the burdens had gone away.

"I'm Merlin…" he said awkwardly, earning a wider smile from Anastasia.

"We know." She said, giving Dominik a glance.

The tall man rolled his eyes in return, ignoring the smile that appeared on his companion's face. Leon gestured for them to seat down with them. Merlin had the unfortunate luck to seat next to the tall man. There was something about him that unsettled the young warlock. There was a tinge of darkness inside him, but his magic had labelled him trustworthy which made him doubt whether it was working correctly. It was also strange, the aura that the man and the woman gave out. They were like many of the wizards and witches of today, but there was also the aura of the Old Religion latched onto them as well as something else. There was something potent in them; something powerful inside with a foreign yet familiar discharge.

The man hardly gave him a glance, just snapping his fingers as a cup of tea appeared in front of him. Like any posh gentleman, he picked up his cup and drank his tea in the most elegant way possible.

It did surprise Merlin that a normal New Magic wizard was able to conjure it with the snap of his fingers and without a wand. And he did feel the Old Religion within him and the woman, perhaps they were Druid-descendants. As said before, there was something odd about him that he could not place.

"I think, there are many things we should explain to the boy," Dominik said nonchalantly, sipping his tea.

"Ah, yes." The woman, Anastasia, spoke, clasping her hands together. "What has Sir Leon told you?"

Merlin munched on his meal, surprised at the sheer delicious taste of it. He swallowed before he said, "That you two were the reason he found me."

"Basically, he told you nothing." Dominik said, earning a glare from the knight himself.

Something told Merlin that those two were not on good terms at all.

"Now, now, now," Anastasia chided looking rather disappointed at the glaring contest before the two grown men. "We should have to start from the beginning."

The blonde woman turned her gaze to the young warlock and he found himself frozen at her sight. "I suspect that you had sensed… _something odd_ …between my companion and me, no?"

"I can feel the New Magic from within you both, but I am confused to find the Old Magic to there as well. May I ask if you two are Druids—or rather Druid-descendants?"

The blondes shared a look. "We are somewhat like that, but entirely new." The woman said.

"There is also this aura, but I can't quite place it." Merlin added, taking a whiff of it.

"That is what sets us apart from Druids and New Magic wizards and alike."

"So, there is something?" Merlin asked, curious.

"Well, yes." Anastasia said. "What you are sensing is something called the Lifestream."

This information boggled the warlock's mind. The Lifestream? He had never heard of it before. And when he asked what it was, his mind was spinning at the new information. Lifestream—as the woman calls it—is an ethereal substance that pours out of the Earth. It was said to be the river of life that circles the planet, giving life to the world and everything in it. It was its soul, the origin of life, but yet even with that he couldn't believe his ears.

"Soul?" Merlin asked, confused.

Dominik rolled his eyes. "We mean that the planet we live on is a sentient being—of course, that is if you know what a planet is." he said, snidely.

Merlin glared at him. So far the man had been an absolute prat—not he was way worse than a prat. Yet there was something about him that he could figure out. Although, he used dark magic in him, something told him that he was not at all dark of heart. Yes, that would mislead with his stoic nature and sarcastic remarks. There was something behind those eyes that held something—he daresay—reassuring; something soft yet caged behind a stone prison.

"Ignore him." Anastasia said, giving Dominik an unamused look before turning back to Merlin with a smile. "But that is true. The Earth is alive, but not only is the Lifestream, the soul of the world or the origin of life. It's the basis of where the Old Religion began."

Not that was something he did expect, but it's also something he cannot unreasonably doubt. Leon saw the look of disbelief in Merlin face, getting his cup of tea and drinking it.

"Believe it or not, Merlin." The knight said, garnering the warlock's attention. "Everything has to start from something."

And Leon was right. Everything had to start with something, then why else could we have anything at all? As the Christians think the world was made by God, could it be possible for the Old Religion be built on this mysterious entity? By all means, he listened to the woman's explanation. The warlock asked why he was not aware of this entity. And Dominik supplied the vaguest answer ever.

"Because you weren't there."

What did that mean? Soon as the tall blond had said that, the woman elaborated it more.

"What he meant to say is that is something entirely new to you. Something you of all people cannot sense easily. You are Magic, but this is Life. You may have mastered control over life and death, but that is but a mere scale that was created by the Old Religion—not Life itself. Do not confuse the Lifestream with the Old Religion.

The Lifestream is very different from the Old Religion. The Old Religion is the magic of the Earth itself that binds all things together. It is the balance of the order of the world. The Lifestream is, as said before, the origin of life, where everything comes from and will return to. The Old Religion is a sacred balance between all people, creatures, and elements of the universe which must be eternally preserved. At the heart of the religion is the balance of life and death itself. The Lifestream contains the essence of the world and the memories, emotions, and knowledge of all who have lived on it. It also acts as the afterlife. Once you die, you become part of the Lifestream as you were when you were created.

There is a definitive line that separates the two yet one cannot exist without the other."

Her explanation landed Merlin into a state of thought. It did make so much sense for the Old Religion to come from such an entity. The Old Religion was like a state of rules in order for the world not to fall on to the edge of anarchy. And that rules came from the part of magic. Magic is something etched and woven into the very being of the world—and that's this point it's the Lifestream. They work as partners—maybe even like how a nation works. Imagine the Lifestream as the country—the land that is home to its people. The Old Religion is like its government. They make laws and many things in order for the country to not tear itself apart. And honestly, it was hard to imagine the Old Religion to exist without the Lifestream.

What is there for the Old Religion to bind when there is none? What is there for the Old Religion to balance when there is no world? It is a balance that exists in all of life, but how could that exist when there is no one life alive to be balanced?

Whatever doubt he may have had was washed away. He continued to listen to rest of her explanation as she begun to explain the discovery of the Lifestream. It all began in the form of a group of Druid children that was dying because of the Black Death.

" _They would not make it through the night." The physician said to the grief-stricken parents._

 _They were a small encampment of Druids in hiding—one of the last few, and yet their next generation was dying at the hands of a disease they could not cure. Like all diseases, one must know the cause before they could cure it. Alas, they did not know. And now, they are made to suffer as they watched their children die._

 _Pale they were as their labored breaths were shallow. Six of these children were suffering on their woolen cots as their mothers tried to keep themselves together. There was wailing from outside the tent—no parent should ever bury their child…and yet now they would. Even those New Magic wizards were having a hard time preventing this plague to haunt them as well. It was pestilence that came with the wind, and now a storm was brewing. As the skies grew darker, the farther away this plague will end._

 _There was no magic to help them now—no potion to make this right._

 _Yet a miracle came in a form they did not expect. It was midnight as the camp slept in troubled sleep. Around the morrow their next generation would die, and to wake from their stupor was a scream. All of them bolted from their tents to see what was happening. The scream came from a woman who was with the dying children in the tent. She came out with fear in her eyes._

" _Something's with them." She exclaimed. "Something is with the children."_

 _Before any of them came anywhere need the tent, a burst of light exploded from the ground. It was streams of green and blue, effervescent and luminescent. They swirled around the tent, going through the opening and glowing inside. None of them knew what was going on. None of them knew what these light streams were. All they did know was that their magic did not work on it, and that scared them._

 _When the lights faded into thin air, they crowded inside the tent to see the surprise of their life. The lights did not harm them—in fact it was the exact opposite—it cured them. The children were asleep with no sign of illness within them. They slept soundly in their beds, and the whole encampment cheered. The children were well and safe, but little did they know what this new generation held._

The tale Anastasia told him was the very first time the Lifestream had ever introduced itself to the world. And this was the tale of the very first of the Advent Children.

"So these children were the very first of them?" Merlin asked, intrigued by it.

"Yes," Dominik finally had spoken up again, snapping his fingers so the table was clean of empty dishes. "They are the first generation of Setoras."

"As a basic summary," Leon said before Merlin could say anymore. "the Advent Children—otherwise known as the Setoras—are the people that can harness the power of the Lifestream, but not just anyone can became a Setora. The ability to do so is locked in the genetic code of the first generation, but even so, some can never truly be given its power. There are times that if the Lifestream reaches out; you can converse with it like I can."

"When did you get so technical?" Merlin asked, clearly impressed.

"Since Leonardo Da Vinci."

"You met him?"

"Save his life, more like it."

"Going back to the topic at hand," Dominik said, uninterested on who met who. "We have reason to believe that the Lifestream—with the collaboration of the Old Religion—has sent you to fulfill a mission."

"What is this mission?"

Leon pulled out a picture from his breast pocket and slid it in front of Merlin. "Do you know this boy?" he asked, clasping his hands together in front of him.

The warlock looked at the knight with a raised brow at his sudden business-like attitude before he got the picture and looked. It was a picture of a boy that looked like him (well, now that he's eight years old again). He had unkempt brown hair, and bright green eyes behind a pair of round spectacles that had met to makes floors. He was small and quite thin—gangly-looking with the overly large clothes hanging on his body like a curtain. The boy looked ordinary except from the scar on his forehead.

"It's Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived." Merlin answered, sliding the photo back to Leon, realizing something. "You think, I was meant to protect him?"

"You were right, he is quick." Dominik said sarcastically at Leon.

Leon ignored the tall blond, leaning forward closer to Merlin. "It's a logical explanation with you being turned into a child again, a child around his age." The knight pointed at the picture of Harry Potter again.

"But I already have a mission—"

"—that will be suspended until further notice." Dominik interrupted him.

"You can't do that!" Merlin said in protest. "My destiny is to wait for Arthur."

"He isn't going away soon." Dominik countered. "Why not do something else until then?"

"I have too!"

Dominik stood up, glaring the warlock. "So, you'd rather sit on the shoreline waiting for _your oh-so-dear-beloved_ -King Arthur—" he said in a low and spiteful voice. "—Rather than to help a poor defenseless boy, who doesn't even have a clue what Hell is instore for him?"

As much as Merlin didn't want it to, Dominik was right. Arthur is not coming back—not yet at least. And what is he to do when his mission laid waste on a shore, countlessly awaiting his king, his friend, his prat? Even if it is clear, he could simply abandon him. No matter what soul on this planet says so. And yet, he is compelled to do this…mission. Looking at the boy again in the picture, he felt pity for him, as well as sadness. This boy didn't even look like he could lift up a sword, or fight the evil in the world. He was an innocent—too young to know the hardships of what fate brought down on them. But it broke him to see the sadness in the boy's eyes, the loneliness that came with it. It was obvious to Merlin than he was not very happy.

To think that he would leave this boy to face Hell alone would not be the right choice. Arthur would have done the same. To stay by the boy's side through it all, even if it means being trapped in a child's body. And so, he must do that as well.

Merlin sighed and nodded. "I will do it."

A ghost smile lit up in Leon's face at his acceptance. He understands his friend's reluctance to do so, but the fact that Merlin would have wasted his life in that shoreline, waiting, was just devastating—just waiting endlessly, without end or notice that he would still come back. So, he hid it all in a smile.

"Alright then," Anastasia said, looking at Leon. "We must prepare for his arrangements."

Leon's smile broadened. "And so we must."

"Wait," Merlin said. "What arrangements?"

"Arrangements for your new family—" Dominik said, amused. "—and your alias, of course."

"WHAT?"

* * *

 _Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoy it. Please do not forget to review._


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: If there are any mistakes or questions do not be discourage to tell me whether it be via review or PM._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise nor do I own BBC's Merlin, but I do own the OCs appearing in this fanfiction._

* * *

II

MEET THE REDFORDS

A week had passed and Merlin could not believe the events that transpired in the span of a few days. It was chaotic yet peaceful depending on who you bump into or where you just happen to be in.

From the third day of his stay in the large Chateau Svior-Jeyne, he had been taken under Anastasia—or rather, Ana's wing, meaning she's now his mother. Dominik is also his guardian and uncle—and so was Leon.

Speaking of Leon, he looked like he led a good life so far with all that he must have seen. There was a tinge of guilt that came about him. When Arthur died, he never returned to Camelot, allowing himself to grieve on that shore—where he continued to live. He left Leon on his own—left him to watch as their friends fade into old age. From what Leon told him, Gaius died two years after Arthur died. Percival built shrines for Gwaine and Lancelot in the forest in their memory and he got married and had many daughters with one of the courtiers that took his fancy. Gwen's rule over Camelot was just and fair as the day she allowed magic back into the kingdom. (He confessed that he had suspected about Merlin's magic, but did not hold any anger towards him in any way.) It had its rocky paths, but Gwen, being the strong that she is, carried on and held her head high.

She never married.

And for Leon, he only remained to be a just servant to Camelot, teaching the values that Arthur sought. After a while when it became apparent he did not grow old, he had to escape. He only went back to Camelot for Percival's and Gwen's funerals. And all of it, he wandered aimlessly around Albion—or as time went by became Great Britain. Leon had adventures outside the country as well, going towards all of Europe and eventually Asia. It only in a trip in Egypt did a woman tell him about Arthur's rise and Merlin's return to the world of magic. The woman told him to find the _Advent Children_. For years, Leon had searched and searched until the corners of the world, and when it seemed like a hoax, he found it in a form of a dream where he met Anastasia. And the rest of the story rolls on from there.

Following that, his alias had been set.

His name is now _Marcus Alexander Redford_. Born on the twenty-eighth of December, 1979, in Aix-en-Provence, France where he resided in now. It wasn't clear for anyone if Merlin—or rather, Marcus was adopted or not, but the rest of them thought it wasn't really an important thing to discuss. They would just elude the questions of his parentage with vague answers which Anastasia was currently doing in the drawing room with her siblings that came for a visit.

And the days beyond that were a chaotic mess of things about the Lifestream that he needed to learn, and his _childhood_ that he needed to remember. Remembering the _memories_ that were implanted in him and looking through the scrapbook of photos Ana had made, a part of him wished it was true—some part did say it was true. The child in those photos looked so much like him—to his first birthday up until his first good drawing of his family. The magic they used was so powerful to make it look so realistic that he had to applaud it. The last one was actually him drawing because he didn't want all the evidence of the memories to be a figment of magic. It was odd to see the sad glint in his guardian's eyes as she took of photo of him with his drawing. It was like she was missing something. And he dare say that he wanted to fill up that gap.

Although, the downside in being with the Redfords was the memorization of family members he needed to familiarize himself with. That was the reason why he was strolling down the Hall of Lords. Every Lord's family had portraits laid out at the hallway for everyone to see. Apparently, the current Redford-Lafayettes had their own portrait of themselves. Merlin looked at a portrait of both his supposedly great grandparents that died long ago from natural causes.

From what he gathered, the Redfords and the Lafayettes are prominent and respected families in both muggle and wizard worlds. They have respective business that benefit not only their families but the people around them. It astounded him how the Redfords had a number of charity programs that really do help the unfortunate. And looking at it all now, it's rather odd how he went to being a simple village boy from Ealdor to the adopted child of a prominent family. It was like being taken in by a noble.

He strolled down the hallways, listening to the mixtape that Dominik handed to him to help him familiarize himself with the family members. In one single tape, they hold a brief summary of each family member. It also includes special key notes about them.

Standing in front of the portrait, he pressed play and he looked at the painting of his grandparents: Sir Vincent Redford and Lady Amelie de Lafayette-Redford.

Sir Vincent Haddock Redford XV, son of Lord Haddock Redford and Lady Juliet Callanach; the current lord of House Ragzar, was a delightfully intimidating man that seemed to scare you out of your wits at first glance, but at the second would seem to soften a bit. He is Anastasia's father, a Scotsman with shiny blonde hair and dark blue eyes, gleaming in the dark. They would have been the same height if only Merlin was back to his regular old body.

Sir Vincent was bulky enough to make it apparent that he could break his limbs into pieces despite his considerable old age. And as much as his respect for him is great, Merlin had to say he was surprised with how explosive his temper could be in both stories and real life. So an angry Scotsman is never something you should deal with, but amongst this was his fondness for his family. He was a family man. And a good man too, gentle and kind; forgiving and merciful; generous and compassionate.

From what he had gathered, he was studied in Hogwarts, being sorted into Slytherin. Looking at Sir Vincent, Merlin had seen a glimmer ray of what Slytherin should have been. And he was all that. Sir Vincent is ambitious, cunning, creative, and resourceful—although, he was not power hungry. With all his wealth, Sir Vincent had always felt that it was enough for him.

And to say Merlin's meeting with him when well is an understatement. Unlike some others, Sir Vincent didn't treat him as if he was some hero or god. Instead, he treated him like his grandchild. It had already been a week since and he's already been spoiling him with things. As much as Merlin was an adult in the inside, he couldn't help but be a child all over again. And the feeling of having a grandfather was just sensational—especially with a grandfather like Sir Vincent.

Then, there was his wife, Lady Amelie Adrienne Colette de Lafayette-Redford, the lady of the house.

Amelie was a completely different story. She was born in Sicily, Italy to Monsieur Yves Gilbert de Lafayette, the lord of House Svior, and Mademoiselle Apollonia Vargas, a daughter of a prominent pureblood Italian Wizarding family. In terms of looks, she mostly favours the looks of her mother with the chocolate brown hair, olive-toned skin, brilliant whiskey eyes, curvy yet slender body, and a youthfulness that many women her age would envy.

Unlike her husband, she did not strike Merlin as intimidating at all—at least from the portrait. He never met the wonderful and adored Lady Amelie for she died suddenly because of a blood vessel that burst inside her head. It was a tragic and unexpected death that occurred on a gala the Redfords attended.

Merlin did want to meet the dear woman. And looking at her portrait, he saw that Amelie had that maternal look in her eye that made you trust her with your life.

According to Sir Vincent, she had a very unique lifestyle and childhood with the many cultural traits that were bestowed to her by both French and Italian relatives. And in this lifestyle, she had learned to adapt very quickly with enviable grace and charm. She is also very expressive with her hand gestures and her words that made her all the more unique of a woman. She saw the beauty and goodness in the world. It was the reason why Sir Vincent fell in love with her.

The tape stopped as it signalled the end of the commentary. Merlin switched it for the record of the next portrait. There displayed were two young men with matching smiles and happiness glinted in their blue eyes.

François Adrian Yves Redford and Jacques Roch Giovanni Redford—aka Franc and Jacq, the most mischievous of the lot, are the firstborn twin sons of both Lady Amelie and Sir Vincent. They looked exactly identical with dark brown locks and pale skin. They gave Merlin a poor time trying and figure out who was which, but the longer Merlin had seen and interacted with them, the more he was able to see the differences between them.

As much as they did almost the same things together, they were very much their own person. It started with the differences in their identical facial and physicality. Not all twins are identical to the very fibre of their being. And that remains to be proven with a closer observation of the twins.

Franc had a lighter look about him. He was also taller than Jacques, who remained an inch shorter than him. And while Franc had the soft look, Jacq had the sharp features. Jacq was thicker than Franc as he often goes to the gym, lifting weights, while his older twin jogged around town.

The personalities differ as well, making Merlin feel surprised at the amount of borderline differences the two have. Franc, being older of the two, had a mature air around that highly differs from that of his brother. He can be serious even the time comes for him to be; hardworking and loyal as any Hufflepuff could be. He's gentle in handling many things with care especially with living creatures, hence, his love for Care for Magical Creatures. Franc was also very polite and friendly, but silent as he is usually a man of few words.

The colours of his house were his favourite colours as well—but there was one thing he did not like about Hufflepuff was their mascot. At first, Merlin was confused until Franc explained that he had a phobia for badgers because of an incident that happened to him as a child that left him traumatized. Other than being a Hufflepuff, he is definitely the more orderly of the two as he likes being organized from time to time while Jacq would live under chaos.

Speaking of Jacq, it was quite easy to distinguish Jacques as the youngest with his brash and rebellious attitude. He was a Gryffindor through and through which the chivalry and gallantry that seemingly all Lions possess. And while this stands true, he is the complete opposite of François. For one, Jacq was more childish than he'd like to admit; indecorous and likes pulling it by the leg. The boy—or rather man was very blunt in many ways, not caring mostly about its consequences, but thankfully he had grown out of that but had not lost it.

Like his brother, the colours of his house were his favourite colours—although, it didn't help that Dominik had made fun of Gryffindor's scarlet and gold, saying it looked more like mustard and ketchup. (None of them could deny that though.) And like many of the Lions, he was confident and brave about many things that almost seemed obnoxious— _almost_.

Merlin's interaction with them is quite easy with their laid-back and down-to-earth attitudes which made them look like one of the _cool kids_ , but the fact that they were cool kids back at their youth just made total sense. But what really caught his eye were the difference in their category as a Setora.

From what he had learned is that in all the years that the Lifestream and the Setora had existed, each of them had forged a number of categories, creating different types of Setora. If that was confusing, think of it like the blood status in the Wizarding world. There's Pureblood, Half-blood, Muggle-born, and Squib. With the Setora, it is divided into two sectors with three categories open for both. There is your Dyston, who is a direct descendant, belonging to one of the Great Tribes and has a high affinity with the Lifestream (Note: in itself is its own category as all Dyston can perform the magic of the Lifestream); then there's the Xatra, who is a distant relative that can be a muggle, a squib, or a wizard.

In these two sectors, there are the categories: Sensor, Blind, and Silmaril. Sensor can be applied to both Dyston and Xatra Setoras. It all depends on the connection they have with the Lifestream, but this is most abundant in Xatras. The Sensors are Setoras that can be able to commune with the Lifestream in a varying range of strength. They can sense the disruption in the world—even sometimes get visions of the things that were, the things that are, and the things that will be. Sensors' attachment to the Lifestream are mostly weak to the point of it being almost non-existent, but this is only for a selective of others. The downside of being a Sensor, especially for a Sensor-Dyston Setora is that some might not be able to use the power of the Lifestream as powerfully as the others; with some needed a tool to be able to control it better.

Franc had always said that it was like a long-distance call sometimes. And him being a Sensor, he knew it well.

The next one was the Blind. In all honesty, Merlin was confused by the term but when later explained it become clearer. Sensing or even feeling the Lifestream is an extremely important factor with the Setoras. It is the reason why they are called the Advent Children. She became their mother and for that they became her children. With the coming of the Lifestream, they were able to see and feel the world in a different light—the appreciation of how life was truly precious. And not to be able to feel that was a shame. Feeling the Lifestream was like seeing the world, you are blind if you cannot see it. It became a taboo subject that it once said that the Blind were children that were cast out from Mother's embrace. Of course, it wasn't the case now, but during that time it caused a lot of bloodshed. The explanation of some Setoras being Blind was still mystery, but the word around the community say that Lifestream was too strong for those Setoras and to save their lives she had to go away.

Yet Jacq did read that there were Blind Setoras that can access the power of Lifestream, but they couldn't feel it clearly. And take it from Jacques to know because he's one of those rare cats.

To Merlin, it was sad like a parent abandoning their child to keep them safe, worst that you get hold of them but you could never touch them. And that's what it was exactly like. While the Blind cannot see, the Silmarils were the complete opposites.

The Silmarils were a rare breed of Setoras for they wield _gifts_ from the Lifestream—powers that cannot be thought of existed into their very being—gifts that are part of them. Each Silmaril has a different gift given by the Lifestream and all of them you are given a choice…it's either you use it for good or for evil…like all things that their choice. Yet this category is entirely rare with only a handful that existed through the centuries. Many say that the Silmarils were the Lifestream's Chosen Ones—her champions; her most favoured. Some even speculate that the Silmarils are incarnations of the Lifestream that walk upon the earth. Like the Blind, they did not know why the Silmaril came to be. They see more, feel more, and do more, but with the power in their hands, they must not abuse it for if the Lifestream had given it to them, she can take it back.

Speaking of the Silmarils, Anastasia and Dominik were two.

After the twins was Anastasia Apollonia Lucille Redford—also called as Ana. To say that he was impressed with her short biography would be a lie. According the mixtape, she had happened to have accomplished many things that would put any man that underestimated her into shame.

He didn't know what to say about his new mother at all—other than her being the epitome of beauty with her long golden locks and pale creamy skin. Her eyes were bright and blue; it was like staring right at the deepest depths of the ocean to find a glimmering jewel. She was not very tall—only being around the average height.

There was no way he could describe her looks any further without sounding like a complete buffoon.

Yet he will say that she may be the kindest person he had ever met in the world, her involvement with the charity programs had impressed him for she volunteers mostly in teaching those with disabilities, believing that they are worth more than anyone bargain for. And like all Ravenclaws, she was intelligent with her words and actions. In fact, it may have surprised him for he pegged Ana to be more of a Hufflepuff, not that she took offense on that. Her love of all living things drawn him in as well as her hobby for photography. When she was not gardening, she liked walking around the area with her handy camera, taking pictures of curiosities hidden from plain sight. It was a very intriguing aspect of hers as she saw the world through a different window.

Patient she is—forgiving she was. The sadness that grows behind her eyes linger behind a glass of joy. It would scratch and break yet seal up yet again like nothing happened. He knew that look all too well and the conflict inside that came with it.

It still came as a shock to hear that Ana's a Silmaril along with Dominik. The pressure and the power that she received but did not want became something that Merlin could understood full well. It wasn't like he wanted to Magic in the first place—he was just born that way just like they were. And while the whole Setora population think they were gods—like archangels even when in reality, they were just humans that were born with immense power.

The mix tape ended and he was drawn off his trance.

Next was the youngest of the Redford children, Adélia Magdalena Veronique Redford. She was an odd girl from Merlin's perspective as she would be so stiff and shy around him, looking at him as he wasn't of this planet.

Like Ana, she had golden hair, although paler than her sister's. It was singed at the ends as if burned a many a time. She was taller than Ana as well—about an inch to be exact, but it wasn't obvious with Ana's fondness of heels. Her body was bulkier and her skin paler as she had secluded herself in a dark cave. Her round eyes were a clouded blue mixed with grey that were enhanced by her thick eyebrows.

When Merlin had met her, she had a quite haggard look, looking exhausted for the most part.

Unlike her other siblings, she was a squib—born magicless. And to make it all the more better, she was Blind. Many had remarked her disposition as unfortunate. In all intents and implements, she was practically a muggle—or in other words, a mundane. Adélia had no magic, and she could not feel the Lifestream to the Setora that was just a tragedy. Unfortunately, she wasn't like Jacques when it came to the Blind department.

Merlin didn't really find any problem with it, but considering the basis the Setora was built on, it was largely important. They had integrated magic in their lives as a gift and a legacy—it was almost like a rite of passage. He didn't personally agree with this, but this was the way they had lived.

Fortunately, _his aunt_ found a replacement for magic to fill up the hole in her heart. She immersed herself into Chemistry and Potions for this was the only thing from the Wizarding World that she could use. Merlin had to admit that pity he felt as she stood with all her siblings—she was different from them—well, they were all different from each other but with some being more different than the other. It was also quite a pity to hear of her treatment of them as well. It just gave him relief that it had not reached into anger—although, it had in subtle ways.

Adélia used to abhor her siblings presence simply because they had magic. She'd isolate herself from them, focusing more on her potions and chemistry; missing out on what could have been with her siblings. She even was at great odds with Dominik, who had a much greater dislike for the squib. And it was all because of her treatment of them. Dominik remarked it was unfair for her to shun them away, making them feel worthless.

In all honesty, he knew not what to say or what to think. It was not in his right to judge her for what she had done or what Dominik thinks of her. It's not even in his right to choose sides or believe what could be hearsay.

The mix tape stopped and there was nothing more to listen to. Sighing, Merlin walked away from the Hall of Lords. He walked down the elegant halls, remembering each crook and cranny of the place in case of emergencies. There was a clang not too far from him that piqued his interest.

Slowly, he walked towards the source. It came from a room with its doors almost closed, making a little crack—enough for him to see. As curious as he is, he peeked. The room beyond the door was huge—almost like a ballroom with golden linings swirling around the pillars and magnificent paintings on the ceiling. There were bulks of furniture covered by a white sheet. Yet what held his interest more was the man in the room.

By his regal stance and posture, it was none other than Dominik Gabor himself, dressed in white with a sword at hand. His blonde hair slicked back and his skin glistening from his sweat. There was a practice dummy in front of him—in fact there were six surrounding him. Skilfully, he twirled his sword, going into battle position.

Everything moved in a flash that left Merlin confused, Dominik knelt on the ground with his sword at his side. He watched as the blond stood, and Merlin saw something he had never seen before. He stood agape as the dummies were spilt open a second later, clattering on the ground at the same time.

This spiked some interest in him again. There was no mix tape, no portrait about the mysterious Dominik Gabor. He was just as confused about his personality as anyone else. The blond man struck him as someone arrogant and cold but not heartless—at least not completely. Dominik had struck Merlin with a strange aura; something he could not discern. It was dark yet blurred. What surprised him the most was the sense of safety he feels with the man as if he could trust his whole life to him.

From what Merlin heard from Ana, he's Hungarian, not French unlike them, and that they met him when he was nine in America when a young little boy tried to steal from a fruit stall. To think that little boy grew up to be Dominik was a bit awkward. There wasn't much known about him—at least nothing he should concern himself in, but they did say that he was sorted into Slytherin and used to be a spy, watching the interactions of the Death Eaters. The fact that Dominik was a Death Eater shocked him, but it surprised him even more that he wasn't even a spy from the very start.

The tall blond did admit to him that it was an idiotic decision that was made during his youth. Something that Merlin hoped would never happen again.

Dominik rose from his position and sheathed his sword. He sighed.

"Are you going to come in or not? Or would you rather gawk like some stork?"

Merlin froze on the spot, unable to move. He knew he was there. The young warlock peeked up at the man, cursing this absurd height difference. There was something different in them. His face was still cold like the peak of Mount Everest, but there was a touch of gentleness in it. Something that was reserved for Ana and him only. The young warlock felt like a child again, coming out from his hiding place. He didn't know why but there were times he'd like one—just the little instances, but nothing too drastic, so he'd better not worry.

Dominik gestured for him to stand in front of him, and the warlock complied. He felt awkward under his scrutiny unable to look him in the eye.

"You're good enough." He simply said, walking away to get something.

Merlin looked at him confusedly. "Good enough for what?'

The blond threw a large stick at him and Merlin caught it clumsily. He looked at it to find out it was a wooden sword.

"For your training, of course." The blond said.

He didn't what to say. Merlin looked at Dominik, who had his own wooden sword. He didn't know how to use a sword properly and God knows that he tried but failed. He was rubbish with this kind of weapon, but the wood sword that was given to him was lighter than what Arthur would go for, and thinner too.

"B-But I'm rubbish with a sword—Arthur even agreed to that." Merlin protested.

Dominik rode towards him. "Well, things could change in time besides I'm not training you to handle a heavy double-edged sword or anything your King desire to use." He said, twirling the wooden sword. "I'll be teaching you to use a rapier."

"A rapier?" Merlin said questioningly, remembering his days through the past. "Like those thin long swords."

"Yes. It's thin, light, sharp pointed; perfect for you kind of physique."

"Why do I need to learn this?"

"Tradition."

* * *

"What the hell, Ana?!" Jacq hissed, running his fingers through his hair.

They all stood in the sitting room. Light flooded the room, putting emphasis on the white marble walls of the room. And while it seemed peaceful, the tension in the air ruined it. The Redford children were huddled on the couch as they comprehend the tale Ana had told them.

Today was supposed to be a sibling dinner—an event where they would exchange stories and catch up with each other's lives, but apparently, Ana had given them a surprise of their life. **They have a nephew.** To make it even better—they have a nephew they never thought they had for _**eight fucking years.**_ It hurt when they discovered it because why would Ana hide it from them. They were family, weren't they? They could trust each other.

…Apparently not…

They weren't mad at her—not at all. And they can't reverse what had already happened, but it still doesn't relieve them of anything. Adélia remained in her seat quietly as she spaced out. Jacq paced in front of them, thinking it through. Franc calmly remained in his sit, taking Anastasia's hand as a sign of his support. They all know how explosive Jacq' anger is especially when it comes to makes that frustrates him so much.

What infuriated Jacq the most was the fact that Ana would not say who the father is—even with the soft pleads of Franc, she would not give way. Stubborn—all of them—the lot of them. In truth, he was a bit afraid that he already knew who the father was.

"So for eight long years, you had a child?!" Jacq asked, red as a steam engine.

Ana nodded slowly, gauging her brother's reaction.

"Why did you have to hide him from us?" he asked. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"We were at war during the time." Ana said calmly.

"Don't use war as an excuse not to tell us!"

They were hurt. Ana knew that, but was their hurt was not worth the price of her secrets?

"Who is the father, Ana?" Franc asked again, hoping for an answer. "…Or is he adopted?"

There was silence that includes the lack of Jacques' footsteps as he stopped, staring at the scene. As if knocked off from a trance, she pulled her hands from François' grasps and stood up.

"Why does it matter?" she said, almost a whisper. "He's my son."

With that, she walked away, not caring of what her actions had led them to think.

From outside the sitting room, Leon had overheard the conversation and was caught red-handed by Ana herself. She beckoned him to follow her to discuss of things that cannot be uttered in public. Through quite halls, they walked until they entered the library. Flying books were organizing themselves above their heads, travelling like flock of birds heading to their nests. Leon had to duck every now and then lest a clumsy book finds its way to his head. Never before did Leon ever think to be amazed by a room filled with books—a room full of knowledge. Every book, not yet sorted, flew to its assigned place according to the Dewey decimal system. The Redford Library was as big as the citadel of Camelot except it was almost like a maze.

Leon caught up with the blonde woman as they headed deeper into the maze of a library. It was rather dark in this particular passage with its lack of illumination. And he had trouble seeing, but the warmth that enveloped his hand was enough to keep him from tripping. Once there was light again, the warmth around his hand dropped. He looked at Ana to see an undecipherable emotion that was displayed.

It was quite strange to see that look on her especially when you knew her long enough like Leon did. The first time they met: she was a little girl in Paris. The second time they met: she was a young volunteer nurse in a children's hospital. The third time they met: she bludgeoned a man who tried to mug him. The fourth time they met: she was in a war. The fifth time they met: there was a prophecy.

What the prophecy was, Leon cannot say for they made a vow never to tell anyone nor would they discuss it in public.

Ana walked until it was a dead end. Leon opened his mouth to state what was obvious, but after a swish of Ana's hand, there was a sound of gears turning, making him reach for his sword which wasn't there. He looked up to see, nothing inauspicious. There was another noise right in front of him and looked to see the shock of his life. The shelves creaked as they moved like clockwork, making a round door.

While Leon was amazed, Ana remained indifferent.

When the gears stopped turning, Ana walked towards it, but was stopped by Leon.

"Are you sure that's wise?" he asked, looking at the door warily.

"Calm down," Ana said, taking him off-guard. "This doorway hasn't been opened in six hundred years."

"Any reason why we're going here?"

"We'll be late for the meeting, of course."

Before Leon could say anymore, she walked towards it calmly and ducked inside the round door. He sighed and ducked inside as well, hating the fact that the door was too short for him to bend halfway. When he finally got through, he was greeted by a hallway alight with torches. Ana was already walking towards a spiral staircase at the end of the hallway.

Anyone who said weapons shouldn't be allowed inside a library should bugger off.

* * *

 _Why didn't she tell us?_

That question kept coming back into her mind, blocking out the verbal fight breaking out between the twins.

Why didn't she them? Had they done anything that made them untrustworthy enough for her not to tell them? Adélia was very confused by her sister's actions. Pretty much all of Ana's actions had been confusing for the last eight years. And now, they probably had been shown the answer of why.

The little boy that answered the door is Ana's son. And it was still hard to believe it. Yet he was there—a living breathing proof of it.

But again—why didn't she say anything?

She must have known that they would have never judge her or think of her as anything lesser than what she was because of her bastard-born son. Take it as you like, but last time Adélia checked Ana was never married to anyone. Many had proposed to her, but she all turned them down. There was only one possible candidates that could have impregnated her sister, but there was an agreement between never to say his name. Never could they say his name again lest anger and betrayal fill them again. Although, this reaction was only experience fully by her sister and the twins. Adélia didn't know the man so much as them, but knew him enough to know his betrayal hurt them so much—especially to Ana.

In all honesty, there was no doubt that Marcus is Ana's son. Although his features resembled more of his father, but the eyes—the eyes held the key. It was deep blue just like his sister's—a pool of wisdom with a tint of grey. That's what made it certain that he is her sister's son.

There was a small clang that brought her out of her stupor. She raised her head to see a metal pitcher of water fell on the pristine tiled floor. A second later the water was gone and the floor was once more dry. It had to be the work of the House Elves in the manor. It still spooks her that it was the reason why all the chemicals she used to mix in this house would disappear with a single trace.

The argument was getting out of hand now that Franc pushed Jacq back, saying something to him in a soft voice. It wasn't her fight, so she left it alone.

At the end of the argument between the twins, they all had a vow to look after Marcus. The child had not down anything wrong—it was simply his father's. And so, they will fill in the role they were supposed to play as their aunt and uncles.

Perhaps this is what they should do for Anastasia to start trusting them again.

* * *

 _A/N: Well, that's the end of the chapter. This is mostly an introduction chapter towards a glimpse of Merlin's new life as well as the family members that he has to deal and familiarize himself with._


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Oh my god! I finally have the third chapter. I'm so sorry for the long wait. I have been so busy with my school work and other such things. Thanks to all that favourited and followed this story. I even thank those who did neither but read it anyways. Well, I hope you guys like this one._

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise nor do I own BBC's Merlin, but I do own the OCs appearing in this fanfiction._

* * *

III

ANEW

"Breathe in deeply."

Merlin did as commanded, breathing in deeply the scent of the incense candles around them. They were in a room filled with them, all lit, giving a fragrance that soothed Merlin's body. For a moment, he felt a spark inside him, causing him to jolt, slightly.

"Relax your body." Ana said to him as she went through the motions—her eyes closed and body relaxed. "Let it flow through you."

The fragrance of the candles felt reassuring, lifting whatever weight upon him, enabling him to breathe as if for the first time in ages. Slowly, he felt himself submerged into a feeling that he could not explain. It was almost like floating on water: cool and calm.

If it did escape your notice, they were meditating; trying to commune with the Lifestream so Merlin could get a grip on this new entity. The amount of energy and magic mixed within the place was enough for Merlin to get sick at one point due to prolonged exposure. His body had to get used to the feeling of the Lifestream. His magic had to work **with** Lifestream lest he face the consequences.

The sessions usually take up an hour of his time which didn't bother him at all. In fact, he needed something like this amongst his hectic schedule. Around the morning, he has to wake up for his defence classes with either Dominik or Leon which not only included sword-fighting, but wand defence. It was a laughable subject at first, but in time, he understood why he needed the lesson. With the Lifestream permitting him to be one of her own, he had to shift and adjust the way he produces his magic. (Apparently, the Lifestream gives its magic-wielding children magical boosts. It gives their wandwork spells more power than usual.)

Then, there was his instinctive magic which has to be levelled and controlled—hence, the meditation periods.

There were also his lessons about Lifestream and the Advent Children which became a subject he became immersed in. They were an interesting subject to learn about especially when they descended from Druids and the Old Religion. With lessons conducted by Ana, it gave him more time to know his new mother as well.

Soon after his meditation and lessons, he would be whisked away by his Uncles Jacq and Franc to have fun in the yard. The two spent the most time with him, playing random games in form of card or board games. Sometimes it was just normal activities that everyday children do.

Oddly enough, Aunt Adélia (or Adel as he taken to call her) doesn't talk to him much, only staring at him with interest. He tried to talk to her, but it seemed distant as she spaces out from time to time. It came to the point that he was afraid she had a mental illness which was absurd of course.

"Does your sister like me?" Merlin found himself blurting out.

Ana opened her eyes, looking at him seriously. "Of course, she does."

"Then why does she avoid me?"

"She's not avoiding you. She's just not good with people especially children. She's a shy person."

"Why?"

"I think the answer is obvious enough to decipher, Merlin." She hummed dreamily, returning to her meditation. "It's just the way she is."

Merlin closed his eyes again and tried to relax his breathing, but instead he found himself asking her again, "How about Uncle Franc and Jacq?"

"What about them?"

"They're awfully cheery."

"You aren't the first one to complain."

"I don't mean it in a bad way." He amended. "It's just…one day they were looking at me oddly like an orange in a bundle of apples—"

"What's wrong with being an orange?" Ana interrupted, opening her eyes to look at Merlin's. "In a world full of apples, one could be an orange."

"I don't think that's how the saying goes."

"It has the same prospect, doesn't?" She looked at Merlin's eyes softly.

The warlock sighed. "But I feel like they're only being nice to me because they're obliged to."

"If there is one thing that I know about my brothers," she said. "then that would be their genuine natures. They never feel obliged to do anything. They do it because they want to."

They lapsed into a silence as Merlin thought about her words.

"What brought these thoughts up?" Ana asked almost curiously.

Merlin shrugged. "I never had a large family before. I only had my real mother, Hunith, and my uncle. There were only relatives I ever had. I had met my father, but only briefly…" Merlin hesitantly continues. "…I never thought this would happen to me—turning into a child and entering a whole clan of upgraded druids… I don't even know what to think of this really. But it just feels…right…and wrong at the same time. Do I even want another family?"

"Do you?" Ana asked.

Merlin looked up at her, expecting to see hurt in her features, but instead he saw acceptance. Before he could second anything, he found himself answering, "Yes…Yes, I do."

The session came and went and Merlin was left to face the outside world again. Merlin wandered around the house, almost memorizing its shortcuts and passage ways. He didn't know why he needed to when he was going away at the end.

There was no other lesson next meaning it was his free time. This was the time where he can do anything he liked. And that was to head straight to the library and read—perhaps even learn about new things. That is

where he was headed now—at least that was the plan until two hands grabbed him.

* * *

Leon sat on his seat on the round table. It wasn't _the_ Round Table, but a round table nonetheless. Next to him was Ana and Dominik, who both schooled a look of indifference, and round him where the different members of their Order of Aegis (or Aegis for short). For the longest of time, this order had been called _The Conclave of Dreams_ as its connection with prophecies, but was later changed for the respect and honour of Lord Aegis Redmayne, one of the last original members of the Conclave before the Conclave's inevitable downfall in the Middle-Ages when the witch hunts begun. The new purpose of their Order was made during the First Wizarding War—when the prophecy of not only of Harry Potter came to being, but also of the coming of Merlin. This prophecy was made by their resident seer, Gertrude Collins, who was a short woman with dark-toned skin, raven black hair, and brown earthy eyes. She sat next to the Cavalli brothers, Theo and Romeo. Both were prominent Italian wizards that hold estate to one of the Setora sectors. They had the traditional olive-toned skins, dark eyes, and handsome features. Opposite of them was the American, Roland Leighton, who had sandy blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. And besides him was Alex Carnahan, born in Ireland with curly brown hair and green eyes. Both are two of the most skilful Aurors on the force.

All of them powerful Setoras—some even more so.

As far as Leon can tell, they were all here. And right now, they were being debriefed about the situation. All of them were perturbed about the circumstances of their rescue.

"Clay beasts? Active Death Eaters? If I didn't know you for so long I wouldn't have believed it." Gertrude said, paling a little bit on the information even to them.

"All of us know that not all Death Eaters were captured after the Fall of the Dark Lord." Roland said. "A prime example would be the Malfoys."

"Then what shall we do?" Romeo asked. "Can you alert the rest of the Auror Department about this?"

"As far as it goes, we need evidence before we conduct an investigation." Roland said, almost grim about it. "And even if we did, considering some certain Death Eater's political stature, it might be nigh impossible."

"Besides," Alex said. "It might not be a good idea informing the public that there are still active Death Eaters out and about."

"At least, the public would know." Romeo said.

"And spread mass fear and panic? What a good idea!" Roland said sarcastically.

Before a fight could break out, Dominik intervened.

"Our focus should not be with the Death Eaters right now, but on _the_ warlock."

There was silence as they looked at each other.

"You say that the great warlock has turned into a child as foretold?" Gertrude spoke up.

"Yes, but only in both body." Leon said, finding it the right time to do so. "He still has his memories and his powers as still potent."

"And about the boy's?"

There was silence about, but this time…it was unbearable. Stares had been directed towards Ana who shifted in her seat. The reason, although, was remained not uttered as its secrets were still clouded.

"There is nothing, but glimpses." Ana finally said, "He thinks he made it up."

"Perhaps that is a good thing." Theo said for the first time through the whole meeting.

There was silence in the room.

"So what do you plan on doing with the warlock?" said Roland,genuinely curious. For all intents and purposes, he was, afterall, the boy's supposed uncle.

"Right now, he is undergoing training." Leon said, getting their attention. "He must learn how to be a Setora as it is his heritage and right to do so."

"Will you tell him?" Gertrude asked. "The truth, I mean."

The members looked at Ana who remained silent.

"One day." she said softly.

* * *

Being Marcus Redford was more enjoyable than Merlin ever thought.

"Look out!" Merlin laughed as he played with his Uncle Franc and Jacq.

Never in his entire life did he think that an old man trapped in a boy's body would enjoy being a boy again. Merlin ran to catch the ball that flew through the air. He missed the simple things in life that didn't leave him in heartbreak or pain. No burdens to be bothered with. And the life this was became something of a surreal dream.

Speaking of missing things, Merlin tripped and stumbled, missing the ball completely. After all these years, he was still clumsy.

"Merlin's beard! Are you okay?" Franc exclaimed, unable to hide the mirth in his eyes.

The warlock flinched at the exclamation. Until now, he was not used to wizards using his name as an expression.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Merlin said, picking himself up.

"Are you always this clumsy?" Jacq asked worriedly.

"Only on good days."

Franc bent down to one knee, got his handkerchief, and pressed it on Merlin's knee. The warlock didn't even know that he was bleeding until Franc addressed it.

"His knee is cut." Franc said. "Why can't it just be scraped?!"

"Your mom will kill us." Jacq moaned in dread.

"I mean, we would cast a spell to help heal it, but we're shi—terrible at it." Franc amended, almost cursing in front of Merlin.

From the corner of his eye, Merlin could see Ana—or rather, Mother walk towards them with a smile on her face. Merlin could never replace Hunith in his heart for she is his real mother, but it doesn't mean that there was no space for another one. The twins huddled up beside him, making it look like they were having a casual interaction. They just didn't want to her know he tripped and fell, and got a cut.

They all stopped when she approached eying them as if they were caught doing something naughty.

"Okay, spill it!" She said, crossing her arms.

"Merlin tripped and fell—"

"Please don't kill us—"

The twins said at the same time with frightened faces.

Ana sighed. "Let me see."

The twins withdrawn from Merlin's side and Ana kneeled in front of him. The cut wasn't deep. Ana's hand hovered over the cut and muttered a few words. Her eyes flashed gold and the cut knitted itself back together.

"Next time be careful and…" she stood up, looking at the three. "Lunch is ready." That was all she had to say before the twins started sprinting towards the manor, heading to where the food is at.

Before they went, the twins grabbed both of Ana's hands and ran towards the man with Merlin in the front his hands upwards, pretending to be a plane. They laughed as they ran until they were on the porch. The grip on her wrist left as Ana went to the dining room where everything was set. Aunt Adel, Uncle Dominik, and Leon were already there, eating and ignoring each other. None of the three were gotten along as far as Merlin could see, but hopefully that would change.

"Don't be so stiff, Ice King." Jacq said jokingly, slapping Dominik's right shoulder.

There was no reply from the blond man in question, only shooting a glare at Jacq that could have killed him, if only looks could kill.

Thinking it was a better decision, Uncle Jacq sat next to Adel, who awkwardly smiled at him; leaving Franc no choice but to sit next to Dominik—not that he minded. He always found the company of the icy blond man to be quite nice especially when they were still kids before trouble happened. And as per usual, Merlin sat next to Ana, who was opposite of Dominik and besides Leon.

Merlin was getting used to the idea of having a big family, but he didn't like the downside of too much names of relatives he has to memorize in his head. He liked the number of aunts and uncles he presently has now. He liked his current uncles and aunts around him now.

"I heard Bertie's Box of Every Candy Flavour updated their stash." Jacq said jovially over the course of lunch, trying to make lunch conversations.

"Is there one for stupidity?" Dominik drawled, not looking Jacq.

"I don't know maybe I'll call the owner and see if they do."

"And then ask them if they should bring you a box of it."

There was a lot of bantering involved in the lunch affair which was cut short with the Lord of the House entering. Sir Vincent sat at the head of the table; still dressed in a grey suit that he wore in a meeting. Once he took notice of the silence, he laughed and said,

"Don't stop because of me!"

All of them chuckled, returning back to their food. Grandfather sat at the head of the table and at once he sat, his plate had been filled with such a magical delicious dish. There was some small talk around the table with Franc talking about his work with Sir Vincent, and Jacq promising to get Aunt Adel's promised supply of bearded dragon scales.

"When do you leave?" Sir Vincent asked as they all ate.

That was a question that which dreaded each and every one of them. There was a tinge of something in the air that could be mistaken as tension, but Merlin knew better. Their visit to Chateau Svior-Jeyne was ending. Nearly a month of them being here and the next would be spent in another home far away from France and from his newfound relatives. Not that he could blame any of them. The reason was simply their occupations.

"After afternoon tea, I have serious business with the Vargas cosca. Uncle Edmund would be with me for the meeting." Franc said, continuing his façade of serious nonchalance.

In other words, Franc had to go back to Italy where he was handling some financial business that proved to be urgent. He has a respectable reputation amongst both muggles and wizards. And as much as he loved to stay in France, the dream had to fade and let reality seep in.

"What about you, Jacques, my boy?" Sir Vincent asked.

"I, on the other hand, father, will have to go back to Romania to inspect on of the dragons there." Jacq said proudly yet with the lining of bitterness.

Like his twin brother, he has a reputation as well as one of the talented magizoologist of this age, but was nowhere near as famous as _Newt Scamander_ , but famous nonetheless. Don't misunderstand the bitterness he feels for he loves his job as if he was married to it. He just didn't want to leave his family behind especially now that he has a young nephew to spoil.

Merlin understood what they were feeling. If he had a nephew too, he wouldn't want to leave as well. And quite frankly, Merlin didn't want them to go either.

The only relatives that seemed to be close enough was Adel, Dominik, Leon (he is technically family), and of course Ana. Adel is a freelance chemist solely engaged on research. She also, occasionally, teaches as a professor in Oxford. Leon works as a private tutor on sword fighting and that ilk which pays and says a lot. (Merlin should have seen that coming.) Dominik works as a curse-breaker as well as Hit Wizard for the Ministry for Magic. Ana's a skilled linguist and often offers businessmen private language lessons or act as a translator in some companies, but outside her work, she also volunteers in local hospitals for animals and children. She also is a private tutor to one named Icarus Moore whose parents pay her a very fine sum of money that could make any poor man's mouth drool.

All of them being respectable jobs, all of them located in London…most of the time.

Lunch was over quickly than he expected, and today he remembered, this was the day they were going to leave.

"Go on upstairs and ready your things," Ana said to Merlin. "We leave in a few."

Merlin only nodded before he sprinted upstairs to his room. His room was the room he woke up in the first place—the walls brown and green; rich with colour and built with symmetry. He took out his trunk, checking again if he everything inside. He had his magic books on New Magic, Old Magic, and Lifestream Magic; his clothes (for once) neatly folded and packed with his shoes aligned properly. His sketchbook on top of his art set that Franc gave him as a belated welcome to the family present.

Once done, he sighed and plopped down his bed. He looked up at the ceiling. Merlin found it surprising how attached he was to the manor. Only a month and he found all the secret passages he can (one leading to a secret library was his favourite). He'd miss the afternoons spent in the gardens and the horseback rides out on the field. There were plenty of things he would miss.

There was a knock on the door and he looked to see the heads of Uncle Franc and Jacq peeking out of the door's opening.

"Is it alright to come in, Merlin?" they both said in unison.

Merlin nodded. His real name was used as a nickname for him now ever since Leon's slip-up. Ana was quick to action and said that it was his nickname.

They went inside, closing the door behind them; their hands behind their backs. They both exchanged looks before the knelt synchronized in front of him.

"Our dear Merlin," they both said in practised unison. "We would like to give our most favourite nephew dear three departing gifts since you and our sister are the first to go."

With measured movements, Jacq brought forth the first gift. In a velvet blue box, a silver mirror lay within, its frame twisted like branches. Merlin admired the workmanship of the mirror, not noticing the fond smile on his uncles' faces.

Then Jacq said, "The first is this mirror from the both of us. With this mirror you will be able to communicate with us at any time—although, please avoid the late nights and early mornings."

Merlin smiled as he accepted the gift.

Franc revealed the next gift. It was bigger and thicker this time, wrapped in a velvet blue cloth. Slowly, he unveiled it to reveal an old spell book.

And Franc said, "This is used to be my mother's spell book, who gave it to me, and now I give it to you. Everything about Setora magic is inside this book. This becomes very useful when you grow up especially in the times of great need." He smiled at the boy. "Do you see this circle with the three dots?"

Merlin nodded.

"Press the centre of it."

With his small fingers, he pressed the centre and spiral hole appeared. "Here is where you insert the key." Franc said jovially, and then, he pushed it back closed. Franc searched his pockets and gave Merlin a golden key with a spiral tip that looked like the edge of corkscrew.

"Be careful with that or you'll poke someone's eye out." The older twin joked, making his brother and nephew laugh.

"And for the last gift," Jacques said, holding out an amulet of the Celtic cross. It was beautiful and carefully crafted. "It was given to me by your grandfather when I was around your age. It was passed down from generation from generation until he falls down to you. Wear it with pride."

Jacq clasped the amulet around his neck, and afterwards, Merlin flung himself in their arms, getting amused chuckles for his uncles. Somehow he knew these two men would meet their fate one day, and he knew it was going to hurt when it happens. He just hopes it would be a peaceful death.

Merlin stammered for a response.

What could he possibly say to these gifts? He didn't want them to give him gifts that he does not deserve. They should have saved it for their future sons, not their nephew that happens to be a de-aged warlock. He wanted to deny these gifts, but seeing the sincerity on their faces made it harder. At the end, he accepted them; a warm feeling spreading in his chest because of act.

There was a knock on the door and Ana peeked inside, smiling at their affectionate display.

"It seems they given you their gifts." Ana said, looking at the velvet bundles in Merlin's arms.

"Gifts that are much appreciated." Merlin said, putting them inside his luggage bag. "Thank you."

The twins excused themselves, having to have their own packing to do. They slipped out the door, passing by Ana who remained at the door frame. She was in a white short-sleeved sheath dress with cherry red patterns. And it was under a beige trench coat with a red scarf around her neck. She wore light blue Mary Jane heels that added to her height. With her attire, he knew that it was about time they have left.

They had left saying their goodbyes and Floo Powdered to London.

* * *

Icarus "Isaac" Moore was bored—like really, really bored.

He sat on the floor next to the wide glass window. The only sound in the room was his train set going around the set he placed along with some chiming song it played every time it's turned on. He sat, cross-legged, playing with a Rubik's Cube he already solved half an hour ago. Usually, he'd be in his tutor's apartment, learning about some new sonata on the piano or maybe even reading up about Einstein's Theory of Relativity. Sadly, no—that was not what he was doing.

Instead, he was sitting, bored out of his mind, in his boring room that's in this boring house which is in this boring street that's placed in a boring city. The only excitement he sees in London is when its football season.

He couldn't talk to anyone because who was there to talk to? His parents were at work, probably buried in their own mountains of paperwork. Maybe you were wondering how he came to be tossing that Rubik's Cube in boredom. And to supply an answer to would be filing a report and submitting it to a committee that bypass all reports which have to be noted, edited, lost, re-edited, filed, clarified, lost again, until it turns up in a bottle in South Africa.

And the answer was simple: Ana had gone on a holiday.

Ana was his teacher in English, Linguistics, Music, and many more, but Math and Science were right out (Which was taught by his parents respectively). And probably is one of the only few people he had social interactions with in all the eight years of his life. And she had only been his teacher for three years. Of course, she gave him some assignments to busy himself in her absence. And all of them were stacked in bundles on his desk, gathering dust.

Isaac sighed, tossing the cube back to the pile he found it in. Gingerly, he sat up, wore his slippers, got his binoculars, and padded out of his room and out to the roofed terrace. Thank God! There was a roof or he might have had to go through the blasted rain. And it didn't help that it was a chilly night, but he thankfully wore a blue jumper. And with his binoculars, he began to look outside. Isaac always made habit to watch the city below from his place on the terrace. There were perks for your home to be an expensive apartment on the seventh floor of the building which is higher than it seems.

He began to scope through the crowds, barely missing any details. You see, the binoculars he's using was no any normal one. In fact, they were called _Omniculars_ that was made by Isaac himself. Of course, it was fashioned from an old one he found in his grandparent's cellar last Christmas in America. The difference of this special binoculars is how the lens seem to zoom on your sight, but isn't that the function of a binoculars? Isaac found a way to make the lens adjust the enhancement by command much like a camera. And like any Omniculars, they can replay action, slow everything down, record, and even flash play-by-play breakdown.

How did he this you may ask?

It was simply by the help of science…and magic.

There were sparsely few people on the streets with their coats and umbrellas (not that you can blame them, the weather seems absolutely atrocious), and an occasionally car or cab would pass by, but one did get his attention.

One black cab stopped right up his street, making him wonder who lay inside the horseless carriage. It couldn't be his parents. They were working overtime and both own their separate cars. He enhanced the vision of the binoculars, training it at the door. The door opened and a curtain of blonde came out. Silky and smooth by appearance, and carefully curled too. He knew that hair anywhere.

It was Ana.

She exited the car, looking up at his apartment building. Ana did live a floor below him with the somewhat same commodities as him. And before you go thinking of anything different, it wasn't like Isaac's parents had her move next door for a closer range. It was quite the opposite. His mother actually hired her within the day she first moved in. The event was rather embarrassing for the young boy with his mom asking a complete stranger to be his teacher without knowing her at all. But luck was on their side when Ana was actually a private teacher for selected individuals.

Isaac knew he wasn't her first student, but he was definitely one of the few child one. Most of the students she has were grown men, but the topic was solely centred in language. There were businessmen that would hire her as a translator or an instructor in many days that sometimes obscure his lessons with her.

He wasn't bothered. It was her job. And he didn't need himself to become a hindrance in her life. She already had a lot to do especially with the Aegis and such.

Oh yes, he knows about that and its importance perhaps even better than some of its members. He was, in fact, the one who foresaw the prophecy of Merlin and the Boy-who-lived. Yes, he's a Setora…and a seer…and a Silmaril. That was the reason why he could make the ominoculars (although, it wasn't as if he couldn't do without magic). He was a unique and powerful combination like an odd chemical compound found at the base of his chemistry set.

Does this mean his parents are Setoras too? No, it doesn't. His parents are as mundane and muggle without an ounce of magic (or at least he thinks so). Isaac wasn't even their real son—by blood, he means. He was adopted by a couple of well-paid Americans that love him, in their own unique way, as much as he does. And it wasn't really obvious that he was adopted as he seemingly got features from them.

The sound of a car door slamming shut cut him off his train of thought. And he looked outside to see a curious sight to behold.

A young boy around the same age as him and probably a few inches taller than him with raven hair and pale skin stood on the pavement, a suitcase on hand, looking up at the building. He looked around to see if any other cab had arrived, but found none. So, he must have come with Ana, but who is he? And why does he have a sudden inkling that he'd seen him before?

Curiosity sparked within him and without a second more, he abandoned his station on the terrace, and abandoned his slippers, favouring his boots. He ran down through the hallway, leading him to the lift all the way down. Isaac pressed the down button in haste, hoping the boy didn't disappear.

* * *

Merlin was gobsmacked by the building in front of him.

It was huge brick building that towered over him. It reminded him of a large manor back in the Victorian Era that used to see as his time as an old man. Yet it was different while it remained the same.

The sound of a trunk slamming shut broke his stupor and he looked to see Ana handing the money to the cabbie before it drove away into the night. All their bags were at the pavement which was only three. Thankfully, they used an extendable charm on the bags.

"Come on, we need to get inside." Ana said, gesturing to the entrance of the building. She already had her bags with her and Merlin did as well. So while she walked into the building, he walked with her as well. The reception area of the apartment building was lavish with much natural light that flooded the area. He watched as many personnel greeted Ana politely with smiles as they cast curious glances at him.

They arrived right in front of the lift which was besides the wide staircase. The lift looked like one of the old fashioned cage elevators; black and polished. Merlin went inside first, tripping a bit but thankfully holding the bars present in the lift.

"Are you alright?" Ana asked, joining him inside.

"I'm fine. I just tripped." He replied sheepishly. "So what floor are you on?"

Ana smiled and said, "The third."

"Oh good…" he said, looking at the panel. There were a few buttons on it, confusing him. "…is that the top?"

"Just below the top." Ana said, pressing the number seven, making glow yellow.

The doors were about to close when a cry broke through.

"Wait!"

An arm shot in between the lift's doors, making them open up again. A boy around his age was panting. He had curly brown hair and creamy skin. Like Merlin, he had prominent cheekbones. And he had cloudy grey eyes like there was a storm brewing on marble shores. He was shorter than he, reaching until his chin. He had lanky body that seemed about to break with the way, he sluggishly walked inside the lift, fitting inside the snug place.

The boy settled on the corner, leaning against the wall, breathing in the cool.

"I shouldn't have quit track and run." The boy said in a slur of exhaustion.

Merlin was quite worried that he might faint any moment, and it didn't help that he was talking hysterically at them.

"God, you guys walk so fast!" He exclaimed, chuckling a little bit.

Merlin looked at Ana for an explanation only to see her stifle a laugh.

"That's because we were in a hurry." She said.

"Do you know how tiring it is to run down the stairs from the fourth floor only to find out your target was already catching a lift right back up again?" the unknown boy ranted exhaustively.

"Then why didn't you just run down to the sixth floor." She said, crossing her arms at the boy. "You know where I live."

When his laughing ceased, he put on a thoughtful face.

"You know, for all my intelligence, I'm idiot."

"Everyone is an idiot, darling…Especially those who _royally_ beg to differ." Ana winked at Merlin, who's lips twitched.

He may have or may have not mentioned some stories about Arthur on the cab trip to the flat.

"Soooooo…" the boy drawled, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Who's the kid, Ana?"

"For six weeks, I've been gone and you still haven't improved your tact, Isaac." Ana said, rolling her eyes at him.

The boy raised his hands in surrender. "Hold your horses there. I was just asking." He said.

Now, Merlin was confused with the exchanged and rightfully so. The two talked as if they were old friends that finally reunited after a very long time. It was only then that the boy recognized him.

"You're Merlin, aren't you?" the boy said, taking him off guard.

"H-How did you know?"

"Of course, I'd know." He said it as if it was obvious. "I'm the one that foresaw your coming."

"Oh…right." Merlin said awkwardly.

The boy grinned widely at him. "I'm Isaac, by the way." He stretched out his hand in front of Merlin.

Hesitantly, Merlin shook his hand. And from that moment, Merlin had no idea that his life would have been changed forever.

* * *

 _A/N: So guys what do you think? Is it good? Is it bad? Is Merlin too OOC? Let me know via PM or review._


	4. Chapter 4

_Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise nor do I own BBC's Merlin, but I do own the OCs appearing in this fanfiction._

* * *

IV

GATHERINGS

Apparently, the days were never boring in his new life…

" _WATCH OUT!" Isaac shouted at Merlin, pulling him under the table._

 _There was an explosion and the whole room was covered in goop. Isaac and Merlin peeked out from under the desk._

" _Yeah…" Merlin said, looking around the room. "You're going to need a new laboratory._

" _No shit, Sherlock."_

Almost three years he had stayed with his new family and life just gets crazier. He even met two more of his uncles…

" _Jaysus Christ! Ana have you been feeding him?" A curly-haired Auror exclaimed; his Irish thick in his voice, checking Merlin over._

 _He gentle prodded his ribs, making Merlin shy away from him. A tall sandy blond man stood behind his friend, smiling at the sight._

" _Quit it, Alex!" the American blond said, pushing his friend away and crouching down in front of Merlin._

" _I'm Roland Leighton." He said, flashing a white smile. "And that Irish mother hen is Alexander Carnahan."_

 _Merlin looked at them warily before replying,_

" _My name's Marcus."_

His training has been intensified to hand-to-hand combat which led to the exercises.

" _Again." Dominik drawled boredly, swishing his blade._

 _He was always intimidating that way._

" _You had centuries to learn the art of combat!" he said rather condescendingly. "And considering your circumstance, the best you can do now is put on some muscle."_

" _He does have a point, Merlin." Leon pointed out from his corner in the room._

 _Merlin snapped. "You try doing push-ups with a block of cement on your back in a child's body."_

" _I have, and I done it." Dominik drawled. "And I assure you this is not the worst of it."_

 _Leon chuckled. "Perhaps a demonstration would be in order."_

 _Dominik shared a glance with Leon before the tall blond huffed and sheathed his blade. Immediately, he fell to the ground and did fast and steady push-ups. From out of thin air, a block of cement was placed on his back. And he still kept up his pace without breaking a sweat._

 _Merlin rolled his eyes. "Show off." He muttered._

" _I heard that, Merlin. And add fifty more."_

 _The warlock groaned, and Leon stifled a laugh._

It might have been exhausting, but there were wee peaceful moments were he could just read on the Setoras and relax —just like what he was doing right now.

It was around late morning wherein Merlin found himself in Ana's private study. Merlin read through the book that the twins gave him, digesting any information he could gather, deciphering their hidden language. All Setora book were written in _Galadon,_ which is their written language. It was comprised of curves and runes that almost reminded him of twirling vines upon a branch. Their spoken language was called _Cisilion_. It was a soft and (almost) sensual language like French. In a way, it was alluring to the ears like a veela speaking to you.

It was extraordinary how Setoras really are.

Another thing that amazes him is the uniqueness they have with the perspective of Life, and their spells and rituals. There was one particular event that caught his eye: the Advent Season.

Unlike the Christians, it isn't about the preparation for the Nativity of Christ. Advent Season for the Setoras is about the first appearance of the Lifestream. It is around this time that all Life is sacred and they gather in celebration of it. In this season, they give thanksgiving to the gifts of the world and the memories that gone by. This season begins every beginning of spring where Life would be in bloom and end at its last day. So the season last for three months. There would be a number of feasts and rituals happening during this time.

There was a knock and they look to see the door open. Ana walked inside with a smile; a tray of biscuits and a pot of tea. Her golden hair tied up into a neat bun; her heels silent on the wooden floor.

"Studying, I see." She said, putting down the tray on the table in front of Merlin.

"You Setoras are just fascinating people. You built an entire new culture completely unknown to both non-magicals and magicals alike. It's extraordinary how you do it." Merlin said enthusiastically.

After all the centuries wondering the world, Merlin had witnessed civilizations rise and fall, new cultures created in the blink of an eye. And yet there was just uniqueness and diversity in Setora kind. Setoras were not limited in terms of diversity. Many Setoras can be found all over the world. Although, they may be few in number, but their strong sense of dedication is founded. And the way they hide themselves in plain sight was just extraordinary. It made him wonder if he ever met a Setora before without knowing at all.

Ana, who was greatly amused by Merlin's enthusiasm, smiled. She poured in their cups skillfully, not even spilling a drop.

"I'm glad you find my race extraordinary." She commented.

"But…" Merlin said, trailing off.

Ana looked at him expectantly. There was a pondering look on his face that made her wonder.

"Maybe…it's wiser that I start saying _we_ instead of _you._ " He said absent-mindedly. Merlin shook his head and cleared his throat. "I am a part of your world now…"—Merlin thought for a moment before looking up at Ana—"…Am I?

There was a fond smile that appeared on her face. "Yes, you are." She said softly.

Their conversation about the Setoras lasted for hours. Merlin was always so intrigued on the Ana captures the stories. It was always so detailed and captivating…not like she wasn't captivating at all. Don't get him wrong, he grew to love Ana as a mother and closest confidant, but sometimes he catches himself wondering if she was half-Veela.

"So, are you ready for your birthday tomorrow?" Ana asked, sipping her tea.

Merlin stared blankly at her for a moment before remembering. Tomorrow was the twenty-eighth of December, his supposed birthday. Merlin guessed that it was about time, considering they just passed Christmas, which they celebrate whole-heartedly with joy and dinner.

"Does it have to be a party?" he said. "Why can't it just be us again?"

The warlock had grown a certain anxiety when it comes to hanging out with other children. He didn't know where it came from. It just was there. He was afraid they'd find him different (as different as a Wizarding child could be). He was afraid that he might lose control of his powers, which happened quite often as his magic still adjusts with his new form. He was getting better at it, but it still worried him. He was afraid they would find out who he was. The last fear was disregarded by Dominik, stating that (in these exact words) " _a pack of bumbling idiots aren't about to suspect a child to be the great Merlin even if you place a glowing sign on top of him."_ To say it was reassuring was not exactly wrong. Dominik has the habit of breaking hard facts not false niceties.

"Sorry, love, but we have to introduce you as a Redford now." Ana said, "And there's no other day than your birthday."

"Guessing that there would be a lot of guests, and our apartment can't hold that much people, where are we celebrating?"

"In Caerleon Manor, it's in Aberdeen." Ana answered fondly. "Dartmoor, to be exact. It's a beautiful place—bleak but beautiful."

"You grew up there, didn't you?" Merlin asked softly, looking at her from the edge of his cup as he drank.

Ana nodded, "It's a wonderful place. We just to go horseback riding through the glen, have picnics, and just explore. I remember I used to be a little photographer as a child. I used muggle cameras instead of the magical ones. I always found wonder at the stillness of a picture—a beautiful memory frozen in time."

She sighed, thinking of the days on by. She remembered the life she used to live as a child. The memories swirled in her head—the good and the bad. If only mother could see them now. She didn't know if she'd be proud of her.

"Who would be there?"

Merlin broke her trance.

"Family friends mostly, but if you must know…your cousins from Lafayettes, specifically your cousin Soleil…"

Merlin remembered Soleil. He met her the previous year during his first time celebrating the Advent Season. He remembered her to be a kind blonde with a thick French accent. The first time they met hadn't been the most pleasant circumstance since she accidentally set fire on his robes during the lantern ceremony of the Solis gathering. Soleil was a clumsy, but endearing girl. She just simply didn't keep up with her feet.

"…Adelia promised to come as well as your Uncle Roland and Alexander—"

"You mean those Aurors that came along last year? The American and the Irishman?"

"Yes, which correct—now let's see who else, the Malfoys would there too." She said, "They actually have a son same age as you; turning eleven in June."

"What's his name?" Merlin asked, taking a bit from his biscuit.

"Draco."

Recognition came through Merlin at the name. He met a boy named Draco once with blonde hair and pointed features. He seemed nice enough, a bit pompous and proud, but nice. They met two years ago on Merlin's " _first_ " trip to Diagon Alley for some Potion materials for Isaac. He was only passing the Quidditch Supplies shop when Merlin accidentally bumped into him. Of course, he introduced himself as Marcus, getting used to the name. He couldn't shake the feeling of reminisce in the encounter. It was almost like his meeting with Arthur all those years ago.

" _Do I know you?"_

" _Err…my name is Marcus."_

" _So, I don't know you. And yet you called me friend."_

In an odd way, they managed to gain a sort of friendship. They kept up correspondence by letters. Merlin never mentioned his last name, not like it mattered during the time. He remembered the boy pestering him for it until it no longer mattered. They would meet up in Quidditch Supplies or Flourish and Blotts when one was in Diagon Alley.

"He's a nice boy…if his father wasn't breathing down his neck."

Merlin looked at her with brows furrowed. "Why'd you say that?"

"Well…I know Lucius. And he had been a bit…disagreeable." Ana hesitated, not sure if that was the word to describe him.

"Ah," Merlin said in realization. "You mean he's a pompous git."

"Okay, maybe he is."

Merlin laughed, and soon Ana joined in.

"You've met him before, haven't you?" she said slyly.

Ana stared at him intently, making Merlin squirm in his seat.

"Met who?" Merlin asked, not meeting her eyes.

"Draco."

"…Yes." Merlin confessed. "I just didn't know who he was at the time."

The warlock was very much aware of the members that joined the Death Eaters. And he was also aware of the Malfoy's position in the Ministry. It was almost as high as what the Redfords had achieved. As far as he knows, Grandfather was in good terms with Lucius, considering they were in the same House. And the fact that Dominik, who knows Lucius from school and is a Slytherin, gave their relationship within the two families in a strong bond.

Ana didn't say anything.

* * *

The day was today. And Merlin didn't know what to feel about it.

He stood in front of the tall mirror in his room in Caerleon Manor. Dressed in a dapper suit, custom-made, he wondered how the day would go. The guests would be arriving soon and Merlin was just so anxious to meet them. This was the first time he ever celebrated his birthday with a big party. He never fancied himself as a big socialite. Sure, he was friendly, but he had to show his " _Pureblood_ " side.

As much as he didn't want to, Ana was right. They have to introduce him as an official Redford to the rest of the Wizarding world. They already have an excuse to why he hadn't been introduced before since he was supposedly born in France. He had to make connections and fit himself right in, even if he didn't approve of most Pureblood traditions. This was also not to have suspicion thrown around when he suddenly appears in Hogwarts.

Speaking of Hogwarts, how would he get registered?

He was an old man trapped in a boy's body. How will they put him on the registry? Merlin knew on the workings of Hogwarts, and often pulled some tricks to register himself, but this time the others did it themselves. Did they have the current headmaster in on it? Or perhaps they also did a few tricks up their sleeves?

There was a popping sound and a house elf named Rues came to inform him of his guests' arrival.

With a sigh, he cast one last look at the mirror, catching the sight of his slick black hair and blazing blue eyes. He turned away and head towards the wilderness.

* * *

Ana could not believe the amount of people that showed up for Merlin's birthday. About a dozen Pureblood families arrived, some of them of Setora origin, and others not. The Malfoys were here as well as Zabini, Crabbe, Greengrass, Goyle, Nott, and Parkinson. All here because of the curiosity that was named Marcus Redford.

She didn't like bringing any burdens or troubles on her child's shoulders. And she didn't like him making friends with people that would just use him in the end, and are only friends with him because of his last name.

Ana cast a watchful gaze on the children that gathered at the corner of the second floor, grouping together as if they've known each other for years. (And they have.) Now, Merlin would be forced to socialize with that group. As she observed them, she can already point out which we were copies of their parents—proud and snotty. It didn't take her Setora power to know.

There was Crabbe and Goyle's sons; looking like two mindless bodyguards by the way they stood. She wondered if they were as idiotic as their fathers. There was Daphne Greengrass, looking content in the conversation. Blaise Zabini stood there in a cool stance with his hands in his pockets. Something tells her that he was going to surprise her. There was Pansy Parkinson, the first she truly scrutinized. She looked more like a lovesick bambi as she sought the attention of Draco Malfoy. The blonde boy was the next she observed with more interest than she expected. Arrogant he was like his father, but there was something in the boy that was…different.

He was his father's son, but not his father. In fact, she had a feeling he was more like his mother.

It made him all the more interesting to her.

She took a graceful sip from her glass of champagne. Ana continued to watch the gathering of guests, and she already saw some she was familiar with. Her sister, Adélia, was watching the events play out as well, but for an entirely different reason. She knew that her dear sister was not accustomed to these kinds of gatherings especially magical ones. Adélia was entirely familiar with it, but she never fit in with the crowd. It was because of her status as a Squib. It saddened Ana to see the loneliness that struck her sister. Franc, Jacq, and she had tried to make sure she doesn't feel that way, but Dominik wasn't doing much of a good job at that.

Speaking of Dominik, the tall blond was having a very serious conversation with Lucius Malfoy at the corner.

Ana sighed, knowing what they could possibly be conversing about. She set her sights on something else. There was Isaac at other corner, probably listening to his Walkman than the classical music that played in the ballroom. To be honest, Ana wanted blast a bit of rock in the party to make it all bearable. Alas, it was be unbecoming of her to dance to music that is the likes of The Police's _Roxanne._ A pity too since the party was giving her a headache, but being the good hostess she was, she hid it with a smile and greetings.

Good thing she wasn't the only one suffering through this. For a moment, their eyes met and Isaac straightened up, looking like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar. He gave an almost-innocent smile. Ana knew that Isaac knew that she knew that he was bored. It was pretty obvious as he had his judging mode on based on the way he smirks when he thought of something amusing about someone. She knew exactly what he thought of some of the guests.

 _The bunch of bloody snobs._

Isaac jerked his head to the side, gesturing for her to look at Franc and Jacq, who had both come for the birthday celebration, being crowded by kiss-up politicians. (One of them was the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.)

Franc looked ready to bolt any moment. And Jacq was just amused at how much attention his twin was getting.

She stifled a laugh, but Isaac, having caught that she finally saw, chuckled.

"See something amusing, Anastasia?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, striding towards her.

No one ever called her by her nickname outside the family.

Ana smiled. "I see Fudge had gotten to try and _charm_ his way into my brother's sights."

"Well, your brother powerful man, working as an ambassador for the United Kingdom to other ministries in the world."

She always liked Narcissa more than most Pureblood ladies. Maybe it was because she had the grace and class that made her look refined while not looking arrogant. Maybe it because she didn't seem like the cold-hearted person they make her up to be. And there was the fact that Ana used to be engaged to her cousin.

"Sometimes…my brother wishes that wasn't so."

Narcissa raised a brow. "And what else would he like to be if not an ambassador for the Ministry. That's already a successful position."

"Successful it may be, but I know my brother. I know he still wants to become a physician." Ana said fondly, remembering Franc's hopes and dreams in helping the sick and dying.

"A physician, you say." Narcissa said, interested.

"Franc always wanted to help people." Ana laughed. "I remember when he was young and one of gets sick, he would treat us all day with _special_ remedies, meaning he'd coddle us with milk and nasty potions."

Narcissa laughed.

Ana sighed, "I know, he hasn't given up on that dream yet. He pours over his medical journal, taking note of remedies from different countries, practicing the noble art when he's away from work. I remember he told me that he once cured an entire muggle village in South Africa. And what can say? It's the way he is…The Hufflepuff he always is."

Ana reminisced on their hopes and dreams, that were just ruined by the ways fate and war.

"Sometimes I wonder why your family associate with those muggles." Narcissa said, but no disdain in her voice, only pure curiosity.

"It's a new era, Narcissa." Ana said, looking intently at her. "We, wizards, are left behind in the past. Muggles evolve while we get stuck. I know that you and Lucius think that we are superior to muggles. And in a way, you are right. But it doesn't mean that they are entirely useless. They have such imaginations that are beyond our comprehension. They have the power to create machines that we never thought possible. It was as if only yesterday that a hunk of metal couldn't be dreamed of flying in the air without the use of magic, but now many soar through the sky every night and day.

We cannot ignore what the muggles have done that had changed our world—that had helped shape what it has become. I respect you and Lucius' beliefs, so I will not sway you from it unless it's by your own accord."

Narcissa sighed. "I fear you are right. We wizards are falling behind through the times. And while I cannot deny the creation of muggles, I still think of them no different. Yet your words are truth."

"We shouldn't mention this to Lucius at all." Ana said, knowing Lucius would not react as well as Narcissa in her confession.

They continued their conversation and lighter topics like the newest fashion there is to offer, and the latest gossip to be heard on the block. Then, Ana looked up to the double doors upstairs, wondering where Merlin was. She furrowed her brows. Then, she thought about what they talked about earlier.

"Is there something wrong dear?" Narcissa asked, concerned.

"It's nothing."

Narcissa gave her a disbelieving look, making her bow her head.

"I was just thinking about Marcus." Ana said truthfully.

"I understand." Narcissa said. "You're son is growing up."

"And I fear what may lie in his future."

"Do not dwell within the future. It has not come to past. Dwell in the present where everything happens." Narcissa advised. "Both of our sons would have to grow up sooner or later. It's inevitable. All that matters is that we would be there for them."

Ana appreciated Narcissa's support. She didn't exactly know how this whole relationship between began. Perhaps it was between mothers that love their sons so much. Ana did not know, but it was relaxing to have Narcissa around.

"Enough of that now!" Narcissa said. "When will I see, my darling nephew?"

"Soon, I hope."

* * *

"Wealthy, aren't they?" Draco simpered, looking around the great ballroom.

Draco would be lying if he said that he wasn't impressed by the residence of the so-called Redfords. Father had told him about them. They were a Grey family at most. To say that he hadn't met a single Redford would also be a lie as his Uncle Dominik who's technically part of the prestigious family. Uncle Dominik was right in the elegance and splendour they have.

The ballroom's walls were white with a greyish tint. The pillars were of marble black; standing tall until it reaches the high ceiling that's been enchanted to project the sky, showing the moon and stars. There were tall windows that showed the ocean, and on the bannisters hanged the banners depicting a white tree, a bird, and a triskelion (at least that's what Uncle Dom had told him).

He stood on the second level with his so-called friends, watching as the activities go by. Draco watched his mother talk with a beautiful blonde woman. The woman had blonde hair like golden thread; creamy skin that seemed to glow with her Grecian-like blue dress. He couldn't see her eyes from the distance, but he reckoned it was blue.

She must have been Anastasia Redford, a woman his mother never fails to compliment.

"They are the one of the oldest and wealthiest families in Britain." Daphne Greengrass said, looking around the room, impressed. "You shouldn't expect any less."

"I hear they existed since the time of Merlin." Blaise Zabini said. "It actually makes sense since that's their family symbol."

"What gave you that idea?" Pansy Parkinson said, lingering beside Draco.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "See that bird on that banner," He pointed at the middle black banner that had a soaring bird. "That's a merlin."

"How do know it is one?" Daphne asked, genuinely curious.

"Who cares about a stupid bird?" Pansy said. "What I'm interested in is who the birthday boy is."

"In fact, we haven't seen him yet." Daphne commented, seeing Pansy's point.

They were just as in the dark on the curious heir of Redford as their parents, who had found it in their heads to try and slither their way into the current Lord's favour. The children huddled up at their own corner, sneering at some _distasteful_ guests. (The glares were directed a blonde near them, wearing simple muggle black dress.)

There was quite a variety of people had shown up in the party, a number of people that they have never seen before from different countries. So, the Redfords were very popular internationally. Draco smirked, impressed by it. His fathers had connections in the Ministry, and so did the Redfords, but their hold on other Ministries were interesting.

He "bumped" into some people, who he coincidentally overheard the names, from France (Lafayette and Seydoux), Italy (Cavalli and Vargas), Russia (Novak, Fedorov, and Vasiliev), Japan (Okamoto and Kizakura), China (Bing), and Korea (Lee). They even invited two Aurors, an American and an Irishman.

Draco heard his father talk about them once, but couldn't remember what it was he said. He also heard that the connections were because of the oldest Redford was an ambassador for the Ministry of Magic. Father had also told him of the strangeness of the Redfords when it comes to their lordship. Apparently, the Great Vincent Redford had retired on his crown of being the Lord of House Redford giving it to his eldest son, François.

"I hear he's your cousin, Malfoy." Blaise said, smirking as he snapped Draco from his thoughts.

"And where did you hear just a ridiculous rumour?" Draco sniped.

Blaise shrugged. "I heard it from that boy over there when he was talking to those Aurors."

"What boy?"

Blaise pointed at a scrawny-looking boy at the corner. He had a mop of neat curly hair, thick eyebrows, and slightly tanned skin. The boy wore a fancy muggle suit, complete with a bowtie. Draco observed the boy, seeing him tuck his hands in pockets and pulled out a blue boxed object.

Just when he was about to speak, there was the sound of a door open and slam shut.

The entire ballroom stopped in their doings, turning to see where the noise came from. From the top of the staircase, there stood a boy in a fine-looking suit. He had slick black hair, pale skin, and high cheekbones. The boy started to walk down the stairs, letting the crowd whisper to each other.

"Is that him?" Pansy said, interested.

Pansy and Daphne exchanged whispers with each other, admiring the handsome features the boy has. It was obvious to them that he would grow up as a handsome man.

Draco's jaw dropped at the sight of him. The boy that strode down the stairs, a boy that commanded the crowd's attention, was different from the bumbling and gangly idiot he met in Diagon Alley.

"Draco, are you alright?" Blaise asked, seeing the look on his face.

Draco closed his mouth before he said, "That sneaky liar!"

* * *

Isaac smiled cheekily, looking as Merlin "commanded" the room. He guessed centuries of living gave him enough practice for this _alerting_ entrance. He was sure that Merlin would trip on the stairs, but much to his surprise, Merlin didn't.

"I present to you, Marcus Redford, heir to House Redford." The announcer said, his voice booming with pride.

There were people that immediately swarmed him. The Setoras were obviously were the ones that bow their heads with their hands on their chests. It was a customary Setora greeting. Merlin greeted his guests, shaking their hands occasionally. Ana had come to his rescue, guiding him through the crowds.

This went on for minutes before the guests went back to their activities, dancing and chatting about the young heir.

Isaac pitied Merlin with the attention he was getting, but it was expected. After a while, Merlin saw him in his little corner, and Isaac gave him a cheeky smile. Merlin approached him.

"Looking good, Marcy." Isaac said, smirking at his attire.

"You too, Ica." He replied.

The two best friends clapped their hands together before they gave each other a one-arm bro hug. They separated, and Isaac looked down his outfit.

"Let me guess," Isaac said, "custom-made."

Merlin rubbed the back of neck. "Ana had to drag me to a local tailor shop in Italy. I had to help pick out the designs of her dress."

"Women and their clothes, am I right?" Isaac joked, causing Merlin to laugh.

"Hey, we're one step closer to getting our Hogwarts letters." Issac said, excited.

"I'm still not sure, if there is going to be a Hogwarts letter." Merlin said, rather unsure.

"I'm sure there is." Isaac assured them. "Just have faith in them."

Merlin sighed before changing the subject.

'Getting any visions lately?"

"Nope." Isaac said glumly. "No bloody premonition in weeks and it's been bothering me."

"What was your last dream?"

"It was just a glimpse. Some small parcel wrapped in paper, sitting in a vault. And it was being taken by someone with big hands." Isaac said. "My bet is that it was Hagrid doing something for Dumbledore."

"Must be important."

"Yeah, must be. But hey! We shouldn't talk about my weirdness. It's your birthday, so happy birthday, man!" he said enthusiastically.

"Thanks." He said, smiling. "But, I prefer my birthdays to be spent in private with only close relatives and friends."

"I know. And I'm bored. I mean, I'm a sucker for classical music, but even this is too much."

"Apparently, it's perfect for our guests."

"Oh! They wouldn't even know what's perfect even if it hits them in the face."

"They're people, Isaac."

"People." Isaac scoffed. "What a bunch of bastards."

Merlin tried to look sternly at Isaac, but his resolve broke, leaving him laughing with Isaac. No matter how blunt Isaac could be, it was always entertaining to talk to him. And it just made their friendship work especially on how comfortable they were with each other.

The smile from Isaac's face faded, making Merlin frown.

"Trouble at one o'clock." He whispered to him.

Merlin followed Isaac's gaze, turning around to see the glimpse pale blonde hair amongst the crowd.

"Oh no."

Draco and his posse, who was trailing behind the blond a few meters away, approached them, bumping into guests without a care in the world. Of all people he would bump into, it just had to be them. It didn't mean that Merlin wasn't happy that Draco was there. He was actually elated he came, but he knew he would be different around other people. Well, three can play at that game.

Isaac straightened up and Merlin remained his cool façade. Isaac knew very much who the young boy was based on the stories from Dom and Merlin. And he was sure he had needed to get a good impression to make it in the clear.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Draco said angrily to Merlin,

His voice wasn't loud, but it was enough for Isaac to hear.

"Tell you what?" Merlin said coolly, cringing internally at how he sounded so…different.

"That you are a Redford." Draco said, getting his composure back.

"I haven't exactly wanted to boast my existence."

Draco looked like he was about to burst by how red he was becoming. Isaac couldn't blame him. From what he heard from Merlin, the two had become good friends from the past two years since they met. And Draco just found out that Merlin technically lied in his face about who he was. There was also the fact that Merlin was acting like a heartless prick right now (which Isaac was sure Merlin hated).

"But you could have told me, _Redford_?"

"But I didn't want to, _Malfoy_."

"So the past two years have been nothing but a lie?"

 _Ouch. Things are getting heated_ , Isaac thought. He could his minions

There was remorse that sprouted from Merlin. He just can't be heartless.

"No, it hasn't, Dray." Merlin said softly. "I was afraid you'd think I was only befriending you out of duty. I wanted to become your friend, Draco. Not a fake one like some others." He looked at the approaching posse, who was watching them.

Draco's expression softened.

Isaac was really enjoying the scene that played out before him. Forget about soap operas, Merlin's life was one (in a slightly more family genre). And not to mention, Draco Malfoy looked like a mini Dominik. Yes, he was not tall nor did he have thick eyebrows, but they do have the same slick platinum blonde hair. In fact, the way he exploded on Merlin was exactly like what Dominik would do (except in a deadlier way).

Draco was about to speak again, but it was shut off by a cold mask again when his _friends_ arrived.

A dark-skinned boy stepped forward, speaking up, "Mind if you introduce us to your friends, Malfoy?"

Merlin nodded at them in greeting. His face changed into one of what could describe as the perfect Pureblood stand. This wasn't Merlin anymore. This was Marcus.

"Excuse me, I seem to have forgotten my manners." He said, smiling. "I'm Marcus Redford." He bowed.

The smile and the small bow he gave them was enough to win him the favour of the two girls in the posse. The two girls were immediately charmed by Merlin's Marcus mode from the looks of it. One of them, who looked like a pug with dark hair, smiled haughtily (feeling like she was on top of the world, she must have). While her blonde friend was content enough to smile. And unlike her pug-faced friend, she was very pretty.

"And this is my friend, Icarus Moore." Merlin clapped in him on the back, and Isaac, in turn, smiled widely.

"But I prefer if you call me Isaac." He said professionally.

Draco looked at Merlin in confirmation. And the warlock nodded. Oh, Isaac knew his friend had been talking about him to the Malfoy boy. And he didn't know if he should feel smug about it.

"Moore? That's not a Pureblood name." the pug-faced girl said in distaste.

It was taking all of Isaac's willpower not to smack her in the face. He hated this type of people. He was sure Draco was kinda like that, he was giving him the benefit of the doubt considering who his dad is.

"It's American." Isaac said coolly, brushing off his anger. "My real last name was Montgomery—and yes, I mean it as the Pureblood House Montgomery—but I was adopted by two Americans and it became Moore."

It wasn't a lie when Isaac's adopted parents were muggles. They were and they are. The only difference is that they were descendants from House Jackson that existed in America since the Colonial War. The House had been producing squibs ever since World War II, making them almost seem like they vanished. There were times Isaac wished he was an actual Moore/Jackson so he could continue the line. Yet he couldn't.

His parents didn't know about it, maybe they will when Isaac's letter arrives, but for now, they were in the dark.

"You're a Pureblood?" the same pug-faced girl asked.

"Half-blood." Isaac said without any emotions at all which freaked Merlin out a bit.

The pug-faced girl snapped her head towards Merlin, who returned her gaze coolly.

"You're friends with a _half-blood_?" she spat the word out like it was poison from her mouth.

Merlin saw Isaac's fists clench, but remain calm and collected. Both of them hated people who thought like this—well Isaac hated, Merlin pitied. Unbeknownst to the both of them, they weren't the only ones that frowned at the girl's statement.

Draco, on the other hand, had no qualms with half-bloods—his godfather was a half-blood for Merlin's sake!

"At least I'm not a mudblood." Isaac snapped calmly.

This shocked Merlin who tried to hide his surprise. It wasn't like Isaac to blurt out words like that, but...then again...this was Isaac. You'd never know what to expect from that boy.

The group looked at him approvingly, probably thinking that Isaac thought muggles and muggle-borns were beneath him. If only they knew, his adopted parents were muggles.

He wanted to laugh at that.

"Now, excuse me, but you haven't introduced yourselves at all." Merlin said politely, getting the attention off Isaac.

One by one each of them introduced each other, trying to create an impression of Merlin, who tried not to be awkward around them. From what Isaac gathered: pug-face was Pansy Parkinson, Italian kid was Blaise Zabini, cute blonde was Daphne Greengrass, big brick wall #1 was Gregory Goyle, slightly smaller but still big brick wall #2 was Vincent Crabbe, and lastly, slick mini Dominik was Draco Malfoy.

Yes, this would be so much fun.

* * *

 _A/N: Thank you reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it. What do you think of Draco's relationship with Merlin?_

 _Solis-_ It's an event where they gather around the Chesa Sanctorium were they gather beneath the stars, whispering prayers to their dead love ones. They would gather around the sacred tree that is placed at the centre of the Chesa Sanctorium. They would light up lanterns and hang them on the tree, symbolizing their hopes and dreams; the happiness in their dark days.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: _Okay! Hello Everyone! It's been a while since I updated, but I'm back with a new chapter. I will admit I'm not proud of this chapter since it's a bit rushed despite months of actually writing it. However, I believe I've done the best I could with this chapter. I hope it would be alright._

* * *

V

LETTERS & HARRY

The sun was shining upon Caerleon Manor. It had been weeks since the memorable birthday party.

It wasn't a bad experience nor was it a very good experience since it was all about socializing with the crowd. It left Merlin more exhausted that he ever been.

However, he had done a job well done.

His success in creating ties with some of the more "troublesome" Pureblood children was something to be proud of (as said by Dominik). Dominik had told him about the expectations Pureblood families would look in him. And while he was not all at ease with it, he had to go along and go with the flow. However, he refused to become an arrogant snob that thinks people are beneath him. Instead, he adapted a more indifferent but charming look. He had centuries of experience with different nobles and royals. So it was easier than anyone expected.

At least…it was easier for Merlin, but not for Isaac.

Since the beginning of their daring dance with the Purebloods, Isaac has been going through a tough road.

Accidentally, on the 1st of January, Draco met Isaac's foster parents.

It was a shock really to the Pureblood boy.

When Isaac found out about this, he shrugged it off.

At first, Isaac had reasoned that he would find out sooner or later, and he didn't care that he would be kicked out of the clique. The word spread in the clique of Isaac's parents and they had reacted exactly like they expected…except for one person.

Draco Malfoy asked his father to take the Moore's custody off of Isaac.

And that was a bombshell they did not anticipate to hit.

They expected him to distance himself in disdain of Isaac's association with muggles, but instead, they were greeted with a letter from Draco saying that his father had " _freed Isaac from the clutches of those muggles"._

Isaac did not want to accept it.

Merlin knew Isaac loved his crazy muggle parents since they were the only family he had ever known. However, if he fought with Draco it may be the end of their acquaintanceship. And the goal here was for both Merlin and Isaac to survive this chessboard they landed themselves on. Isaac may not like it, but he has to make sacrifices in order to survive.

And that's what Isaac did.

At the end, Isaac accepted Draco's offer and he was released from the Moore's hands.

If Isaac had a choice, he would have stayed with the Redfords, but he had to be in the custody of a blood relative. Hence, the blood test in Gringotts.

 _The blade cut through Isaac's flesh as blood dripped through it and unto the parchment held out by a goblin. Isaac took the blade away from his hand, watching as the wound healed itself. He took his attention away from his hand and unto the parchment that swirling with blood._

 _Names appeared that he did not recognize with lines connecting them until at last, it appeared—Isaac's real father._

 _Dominik Gabor._

The revelation made Dominik and Isaac pale in shock, Draco delighted, and Merlin laugh nervously.

It turned out Isaac was the result of Dominik's affair with a Pureblood American woman. Isaac was Dominik's bastard son. Once the tall blond realized this, he was quick to make Isaac legitimate, making him heir to his vast fortune. And so Isaac was promptly renamed as _Icarus Jeremiah Gabor._

In all honesty, Merlin pitied Isaac. To lose the only family he ever had was absolutely horrible, but in this place, Isaac discovered his long lost father that turned out to be someone he knows. He probably wouldn't have known if he hadn't accepted.

Isaac was never angry at Draco. He couldn't blame Draco at all. In consideration to Draco's point of view, he thought that the Moores were corrupting Isaac and immediately sought help of his father to stop it. It was actually very kind of Draco to do. Yet it doesn't negate the fact that Isaac lost them, but it did help that the couple was obliviated.

He could never visit them. It was only in his memories he can.

* * *

Thirty-three miles, six hours, and three minutes away in a large cottage-like house, Isaac sat on comfy wooden chair, eating his breakfast, glancing occasionally at his newfound father. It was silent in the room, only the rustle of the papers that Dominik Father turned and the clink of Isaac's silverware could be heard. Having enough of the quiet, Isaac spoke up.

"So…you're my dad?" Isaac began, trying to look casual.

"Yes." Dominik said, turning the page of the newspaper, "I thought we established that days ago."

"I know, I know." Isaac said, sighing, "It's just hard to accept that your dad all this time was the asshole you used to make fun of behind his back."

Once he realized what he said, Isaac snapped his mouth shut, sneaking a glance at Dominik. The blond was currently, trying not to rip the newspaper to bits and stuffing it inside his son's mouth. Fortunately, his father remained level-headed and calm. However, it didn't stop him for asking.

"You used to make fun of me?" Dominik drawled, not looking at his newly discovered son.

Isaac cringed at the indifference in his voice. It had a cold sting in it that pierced through his chest, making him feel guilty. He didn't know if he should be honest or not, but what's the point of him lying?

Isaac decided to take a risk.

"…Yes." He confessed hesitantly, but hurriedly stated, "In my defense, I didn't know you were my father, and you were a total dick."

"And to think my son turn out to be so uncouth." Dominik muttered, but Isaac heard, shrugging it off.

"I might not have been, if I was raised by you." Isaac said, drinking his glass of milk, "In all honesty, I might have turned out to be a kid with a stick up his ass."

He couldn't help but smirk at Dominik's scowl. Ever since he met the infamous Dominik Gabor, he always had a penchant for annoying the blond man. Whether it be by pranking means or plain verbal communication, it was always fun. Although, it did sting to know he'd be doing it to his true father—a father he yearned so long to have.

"How delightful of how my child thinks of my parent skills." Dominik said sarcastically.

"You better believe it." Isaac said with a smug grin, but it faded, "Who was my mom?"

"She's dead."

"No shit, Dad." Isaac snapped irritated, "I'm asking for her name."

Dominik rolled his eyes but answered anyways,

"Her name was Lea Montgomery." he said with no emotion whatsoever, "she died in the First Wizarding War; executed by Death Eaters."

"Great!" Isaac said sarcastically, "The same clique you joined killed my mom." he huffed and asked rhetorically, "Did you hear the news from your gal pals?"

"No." Dominik answered, "I ensured it."

' _WAIT, WHAT?'_

Isaac froze on his seat.

"You ensured that my mother was executed?" he asked after a few moments.

"Yes…" he said, hesitant, "How do you feel about that?"

" _Fan-fucking-tabulous."_

Isaac went back eating, grumbling quietly, trying to comprehend what the hell was said.

' _My dad ensured that my mom was executed. Okay._ WHAT THE FUCK'

"I'd rather if you don't shout." Dominik said, elegantly eating his breakfast.

' _Shit, I said that out loud.'_

"If it's worth anything," Dominik started to say, "I had no choice in the matter."

The room was submerged into silence again. Isaac opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again when he found no words. What was he supposed to say now? The truth was his own father was an emotionally-constipated asshole that made sure my mom died (he's not letting that go soon).

At that moment, there was a pop and Vincey, their House Elf, appeared.

"A letters for you, Master Isaac." he said with a gravelly voice.

With a nod of gratitude, Isaac accepted the stack from Vincey and looked through them. There was a letter from Draco as well as Blaise and, of course, Merlin. However, amongst the letters, he didn't expect the rough parchment envelope from Hogwarts to be delivered. He raised his brow, turning the envelope to see a wax seal and the logo of the school on top of it. Isaac opened with anticipation. This was the moment he was waiting for all his life. Skimming through the letter, he didn't need to read it all to know what it had said.

"Well," he exhaled, grinning from ear to ear, and said in a faux Southern American accent, "it looks like I'm going to Hogwarts, Daddy."

* * *

Merlin read the letter over and over again, reassuring himself that it was very real.

 **HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

 **Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore**

 _ **(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**_

 **Dear Mr. M. Redford,**

 **We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.**

 **Term behinds on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.**

 **Yours sincerely,**

 **Minerva McGonagall**

 **Deputy Headmistress.**

Then there was the second page which had all the supplies he needed. Most of the times he already procured or were simply in the possession of his relatives. _Relatives._ Huh. He never thought he'd say that. It been so long since he had a family and suddenly, he had one. Merlin would have never thought that waking up in a cave as a child would lead him to this. However, he knew that this merely was for pretenses and for duty, yet he let him bask himself in the illusion that he was not a great warlock, but only a mere child. It was easy enough with Ana's mothering nature and the blissful unawareness of most of his relatives. Yet he felt guilty, almost feeling like he was intruding in their family.

Shaking his head, he ignored that feeling, letting himself feel joy in receiving his letter.

"Merlin?" Ana's voice called out for him.

"Yes?"

"Lucius just sent me a letter, asking if you wanted to join Draco for shopping in Diagon Alley." Ana said, holding up the letter within her grasps.

"When?"

"Three days from now."

"Was Isaac asked to?" he asked, curious.

Ever since Isaac had been revealed as Dominik's son, Lucius Malfoy had seemed to becoming for accomodating to Isaac. Something expected when you find out that your son's godfather had a son within his own son's age.

'Yes, but Dominik declined." Ana said, "Said that they already had most of Isaac's supplies except for his wand and robes."

"So do we." Merlin stated.

"So decline?" Ana questioned, leaning on the frame of the doorway.

"No. We'll join him for getting the robes and the wands."

Ana nodded at his decision, turning away to write the letter.

* * *

Harry stood in front of the shop, nervous on being on his shop was called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The first thing he saw was the owner herself. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak, "Got the lot here- two young men being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, there were two boys. The first one stood on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. He had a pale, pointed face, and slick blonde hair. The second boy stood, waiting, at the side. His arms were crossed and he had a bored look on his face. In contrast to his companion, the boy had black cropped wavy hair. He had a oval and pale face.

Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to the blonde boy, and slipped a long robe over Harry's head, and began to pin it to the right length.

"Hello," said the blonde boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door, buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the blonde boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry strongly reminded of Dudley. From the corner of his eye, he saw the ravenette boy roll his eyes as the blonde boy went on. Harry's lips twitched. It was nice to know he wasn't the only one annoyed by the boy's rambling.

"Have you got your own broom?' the boy went on.

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.

"I do- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"He's gamekeeper." the ravenette boy decided to speak up, surprising Harry.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage- lives in a hunt on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant." said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all, "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

Harry heard the ravenette sigh in exasperation.

"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname anyway?"

However, before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear." and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, we'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Harry walked off, not looking back. However, he was stopped by a call.

"Hey!"

Harry turned around to see it was the ravenette.

"I'm sorry about him." the boy said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "He's a bit...biased, but he's nice when you get past the prejudice. I would have stopped him from yammering on, but I wasn't really in a position to argue."

"Why can't you? Stopped him, I mean." asked Harry, curious.

"Just family stuff." the boy said waved it off, and straightened up, "You're new to this world, aren't you?"

Harry was surprised.

"How did you know?"

"From your dismal answers with my friend." he said with a smile, "I bet you didn't know half of the things he was talking about."

Harry flushed, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Not that it's a bad thing." the boy said with a sincere smile, "anyways, Welcome to the Wizarding World!"

The boy stuck out a hand to shake.

"I'm Marcus Redford." he introduced himself.

"Harry. Harry Potter." he said hesitantly, unsure with how he would react.

Harry excepted a shocked face overcame Marcus, but instead the boy retained his smile, not treating him like a celebrity.

"Well, Harry, it's nice to meet you."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Actually, double update! I forgot that I was already done with this chapter compared to the last ones. Anyways, I won't hold you guys up.

WARNING: Isaac's Rudeness. (I swear I'm sorry if Isaac's rudeness would offend anyone.)

* * *

VI

HIGHWAY TO HELL, I MEAN, HOGWARTS

Isaac always thought the experience to be mundane as he had been seeing the famous Hogwarts Express and the platform nine and three-quarters through his visions; not to mention read all about it. And it pains him to admit that he was right.

It all started when he journeyed to Diagon Alley; he didn't even blink an eye. Like the shifting rocks were something he had seen before (which he did, in a dream and in real life), and the goblins, and pretty much everything else. Well, he was irritated when he was being measured for his robes when Madame Malkin just kept on telling him how small he was.

Okay, lady! He knows that he is short. And when he grows up, he will still be short. Although, he prayed to whoever deity that he wouldn't be so.

There were only two things he enjoyed in that trip. First was the roller-coaster ride at the wizard bank; second was his wand choosing at Ollivander's because who wouldn't find that exciting?

Pretty much that was it. And yeah, the ice cream was okay, but he isn't really a sweet tooth. So, why would anything be different on the train from that in the goddamn alley?

Is it because he gets to go through a wall? Sheesh, he's been through enough walls. Some were more painful and not at all magical, and some were pretty much the trick on the eye. To be honest, nothing seems to surprise him anymore—well anything magical so far anyways. He huffed, looking out from the window of their compartment. The landscape was green and he was getting sick of it. Sometimes he liked basking in the feeling of being right, but there were those moments that just bites him back in the ass.

"I did not think it would end up like this." He muttered under his breath.

"End up like what?" Merlin's head snapped up, looking at his curly-haired companion.

Isaac gave him an irritated look before gesturing around the compartment with his hands waving around. "THIS!" he cried out, sinking into his seat. "I'm honestly disappointed."

The curly-haired seer sulked on his chair. He had been looking forward for this year, but he didn't think that his first time would be a bust.

His companion set his book down next to him, clasping his hands together and leaning forwards. "Couldn't you just wait until we actually got to the school?" Merlin asked.

He huffed. "You know me—I ain't patient for this shit. And honestly, this is _supposed_ to be a memorable experience—but it just manages to disappoint me. Dear God, what's happened to me?!" He stood up, moved around, jumping randomly at times. This just made Merlin confused yet amused on his antics.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to do something!" he said loud enough to make Merlin flinch at the volume.

Boredom never sat well with Isaac especially when he's away from his gadgets and toys that an eleven year old such as him shouldn't be playing with. And honestly, Isaac doesn't like it when you referred to it as a toy—unless it's an actual toy. And Merlin knew how much this meant to Isaac, and it honestly was sad to see him in a plain blank face, absent with the usual happy ones of the usual first years. Then again…Isaac wasn't your usual eleven-year-old.

Merlin had tried to calm the boy down and it was only when the candy trolley came into view he shut up. A smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door, and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Isaac smiled happily, thinking of the magical sweets he never tasted yet. He went out the corridor and bought for himself, knowing Merlin didn't want any.

Merlin thanked the old lady, helping Isaac carry them all inside. There were Berttie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and pretty much all the candies and sweets that existed in that cart. Merlin didn't want any of the sweets preferring a more natural blend of muggle chocolate that he packed.

He looked to find Isaac munching on the Cauldron Cakes and taking down notes. Notes on what subject however seemed vague. The time came and went with Merlin continuing to read and Isaac just writing and munching on the purchased food.

"Holy shit!" Isaac exclaimed with his mouth full.

Merlin looked up to find a chocolate frog card in the palm of his hand. He looked questioningly at him, although grimacing as Isaac mercilessly bit the head off the enchanted chocolate frog. The frog spazzed before it _died_. Even Merlin had wondered what would happen when you actually eat a Chocolate Frog and looking at it now, it doesn't seem nice.

"I got you." Isaac said, showing him the card; a big grin in place.

Merlin took the card from his hand, flipping it to see a portrait of Dragoon the Great. He sighed, remembering all his escapades as the old man. He had grown accustomed to that frail and old body even if he had been annoyed by the aching feeling around his body. It was the price of old age, wasn't it?

"You look ridiculous." Isaac remarked, cringing at a particular flavour from Bertie Bott's Beans.

"At least, I didn't look like a dried-up dwarf when I turned old." Merlin commented.

Isaac spluttered. "That was an aging spell! It doesn't count!"

"Just keep telling yourself that."

The warlock went back to his book, smirking at Isaac's grumblings. The seer just went back to his note-taking, but brought out his headphones and cassette Walkman. He brought out his cassette box and picked his The Best of David Bowie Vol. 1 mixtape, and listened to the song _Space Oddity_.

The countryside was becoming wilder, and forty-one Bowie songs, and four cassette tapes had passed and the first song in the Best of Queen, _Bohemian Rhapsody,_ was now playing. And Merlin had to ignore Isaac's constant head bobbing with the song that he played or even the random times he would sing along. This didn't irritate him, but amuse him. Isaac was an enigma wrapped in a burrito with a personality and a mind-set you wouldn't have expected at all.

The young seer would sing some of the lines out aloud with one of them being the first start of the song: " _Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?"_

In all honesty, Merlin quite liked the songs Isaac listens too. Merlin, believe it or not, prefers are a more classical upturn with Mozart, Beethoven, and Bach, but Isaac wanted him to know the wonders of rock. And he was surprised, he was still alive after that "psychedelic" experience ( Ergo they just sat in a room full of vinyl discs and heavily incense candles, and then they listened until they dropped.)

Just at the iconic _Do let me go!_ part was done, there was a knock. And Merlin lifted his head up from his book to see a girl slide open the door accompanied with a round-faced boy. The girl already wore her Hogwarts robes.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." She said with a kind of bossy voice. The girl had bushy brown hair, creamy complexion, and rather large front teeth.

Merlin shook his head and looked at Isaac, who was currently unaware of the people that were in their compartment. The curly-haired boy just continued to hum and bob his head to the music while writing something down.

"What is that on his head?" the boy asked, looking shyly at the headphones on Isaac's head.

As if on cue, Isaac took his headphones, letting them hang around his neck. He smiled before looking up; his smile fell.

"Did I miss something?" he asked, looking around as if to check if the compartment wasn't on fire.

"Are those headphones?" the bushy-haired girl said, pointing at them.

"Of course," Isaac said, looking at her with a raised brow.

"What are 'head phones'?" the round-faced boy asked curiously.

"It's a muggle listening device." Merlin explained, casting him a smile.

"You know, you can't bring muggle devices to Hogwarts." The girl said. The girl seemed confident; very law-abiding kind of girl.

"Really?" Isaac asked sarcastically, although was not clear to the bushy-haired girl.

"Yes, besides electronics won't work in Hogwarts grounds."

"Why is that so?" Isaac asked, leading her on with a smile.

Merlin rolled his eyes at Isaac. He was going to break that girl for sure.

"They all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air." She said in-a-matter-fact voice.

The warlock could see the seer resist rolling his eyes at her.

"Okay," he said. "Which one are you referring to? Electricity or Electronics?"

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but Isaac interrupted.

"I'm sorry, but if you are referring to electricity," He said. "I must say that it's impossible for electricity _not_ to work."

The girl looked offended at him, but did not interrupt him.

"If electricity didn't work, then the universe literally won't exist as we know it's due to the fact that electricity is streams of electrons. And without electrons, compounds, thus most of matter wouldn't exist." Isaac explained. "The universe would not exist since EM, which stands from Electromagnetic. forces are an integral component of the standard model. And not to mention the fact that our brains run on electrical impulses through synapses.

"If you were referring to electronics then it is possible that it might be a localized limitation of EM field functions. An example would be the suppression of high-energy-density electrical items versus lower density items such as bio-electricity. In it, not only electricity but also gunpowder, steam engines, and etcetera would not work, but the key difference being the level and density of the electrical or heat energy being artificially produced. Do you understand?"

His whole explanation was spoken fast and true, leaving the three inhabitants in the room surprised. Even Merlin since he never got a full science lesson from Isaac. The curly-haired seer clapped his hands together.

"To speed things up, no we haven't seen your toad. And it's called science and I read a lot." Isaac said with a smile. "Now shoo!"

The bushy-haired girl was broken from her stupor of (probably) broken pride, and had dragged the awestruck Neville out of the compartment to the next one.

Isaac rolled his eyes. "You know, even if that does happen. My electronics would still work because it's part of my Lifestream gift."

"I know it will." Merlin said, smiling at his friend.

His friend went back to listening to his music and just writing down. It was then that he wished that Isaac and the girl wouldn't end up in the same house. If they did, all hell would break loose. They were back to their peace and quiet state. When it seemed they were almost there to Hogwarts, Merlin and Isaac took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes that fitted them nicely enough.

"I feel like I stole Dominik, I mean, Dad's drapes." Isaac muttered under his breath. He replaced his headphones with a set of earphones, so he could easily hide it. It hung around his neck and still connected to the Walkman attached to his hip. He had asked Madame Mankin to leave a space for the wire to pass easily and also to control the Walkman as well.

A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately."

Isaac placed all the uneaten sweets inside his bag along with his other belongings. Once that was done, they joined the crowd thronging the corridor. The train slowed right down and finally stopped. And people pushed their way toward the door and out onto the tiny dark platform. Isaac followed Merlin as they headed towards a giant bearded man named Hagrid.

Slipping and stumbling, they walked down the steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them, but training in the dark may have made this easier. Nobody spoke much—in fact Isaac was still listening to a myriad of songs from Brian Eno this time.

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers. Isaac didn't pay any mind since he was busy listening to _Dead Finks Don't Talk_.

Merlin remembered all the times he attended the school. Year after year Merlin would change his name. However, he would always pick something that started with an M. On the registration forms he would fill in his parent's names, though varying it between the names of his friends back in Camelot.

In order to fit in, Merlin would perform an aging spell, though this time in reverse making him younger. This was the part Merlin hated the most because despite his size, Merlin was still a fully developed sorcerer. His magical ability succeeded any witch or wizard, and was now forced inside an eleven year old body. Containing his magic was difficult. And now, that he is young again but by different circumstances, it felt different. It might be the work of the Lifestream, making it bearable for him.

Merlin nudged Isaac as they sat inside a boat with two other girls. One had silky honey blond hair and the other had a short brown bob.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then—FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. Isaac let his hand wade through the water, listening to the serene music of Brian Eno's Zawinul/Lava. The cool water went through the spaces of his fingers like liquefied hair. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff.

They all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

Both of them helped the two out of the boats, earning them small smiles. Thankfully, the round-faced boy had finally found his toad. And when that was done, they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle. They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

The door swung open at once. A tall, black-haired witch in emerald-green robes stood there with a very stern face which is the first sign of warning to not mess with her. Isaac stopped the music immediately, seeing the woman would see his earphones.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big, but not as big as the hall of the Wolfsbane castle on another side of Scotland (owned respectively by the Redfords). The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Isaac could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right—the rest of the school must already be here—but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room…"

The professor went on and on explaining everything to the first years. Merlin and Isaac didn't need to listen to them since the rules were almost embedded in their minds. The warlock had met eyes with the professor that stared at him curiously.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She left the chamber.

Merlin walked as she left, feeling confused and curious. She had looked at him with some kind of recognition, but Merlin was sure that he had never ever met her. Maybe it was because of Anastasia and Dominik.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?" he heard someone ask.

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Isaac snorted besides as he listened to music with only one bud, keeping one ear alert. Hurtful tests for first years? Obviously, it was a lie.

It was always like this. Merlin looked around and saw that everyone else looked terrified, too. No one was talking much except that bushy-haired girl that Isaac had explained a piece of science to, who was whispering very fast about all the spells she'd learned and wondering which one she'd need.

Out of all of them, Isaac and Merlin were not nervous at all. Suddenly, several people behind them screamed. They turned around to see about twenty ghosts that had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. Merlin smiled at the sight.

He had remembered them from all the centuries that he had attended. In his days from before, His only solace was seeing the ghosts at Hogwarts, who remembered him year after year. They didn't know his true identity, but Merlin was sure they suspected. They respected him as many knew him to be their elder. He was able to share laughs with them.

The Fat Friar appeared before them smiling, catching the eye of Merlin. They knew of his act and they went along with it.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Merlin got behind Isaac, who stood behind a ginger boy. They walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Once Merlin arrived in the Great Hall he took a deep breath. It was exactly how he remembered it. It was decorated for the welcoming ceremony with flags hovering over tables addressing each house. Candles gleamed brightly and the ceiling was lit by glowing stars. It was beautiful and spectacular.

Every student had their eyes trained on them, but it did not matter. His eyes looked across to the faculty table, where staff was seated. Each teacher sat at the head, a symbolization of their authority. It was the founder's idea that the faculty should sit at the head of the room, for it was important that the students respect their leaders.

Merlin sighed. He had already left when they designed this room. Unlike the founders, Merlin believed the students would have more respect if the faculty sat with them. It was a view Arthur had influenced and so did the round table when it was created.

Arthur had explained how the kings had used the round table to symbolize the equality of all. It emphasized this as no man could be placed above another. It wouldn't matter where one would sit for they would all have equal positions. The round table gained the king his people's admiration. Feasts and celebrations had always been festivities that highlighted the nobles and knights, but with this round table it was no longer a select few but the kingdom that was celebrated, all people included.

Arthur had been a good leader. He understood that people chose to follow him because they believed in the way he ruled. To be a good king he must rule in favor of the people, for it was the people that truly gave him his power.

Merlin had guided him in the foundation of his beliefs; however, it had been Arthur that expanded on his views allowing him to become an accepting and benevolent ruler. It was through his views of equality that he gained support of not only his people, but those from other kingdoms. Through this, he united Albion and established peace.

He had ruled his kingdom through his people's trust and loyalty, unlike his father who ruled through fear and force. With Uther, there was chaos because there were always those that felt the need to rise up against him. However with Arthur, there was peace because he gave the people no reason to feel oppressed.

Merlin knew that the founders had the best intentions for the school, but he couldn't help but think. When students are in a classroom they sit behind the teacher because the knowledge of that one is greater than their own. Yet, for dining arrangements what is the purpose of the head if not to declare one's superiority?

What if students began to see the hypocrisy of how the school preaches equality and defies itself through a mere seating arrangement? No matter how old or young, every individual has a purpose in the world. Whether they are written in a greater plan or not, everyone plays a part that will influence another. Any part is significant, and no matter how small it may seem, the result is the same and for this no individual should be valued greater than another no matter what.

Everyone is equal.

Merlin knew that if the issue were to be brought up it would be deemed 'inappropriate'. He knew it would be rejected and overlooked, and for this reason he never voiced his opinion on the matter. If Merlin had had his way, the round table would be implemented, and teachers would not only sit with the students, but the students would sit together.

The division within the school was the cause of prejudice and misconceptions. It wasn't just the teachers from the students, but it was the division of the houses. The school itself was segregated. Merlin didn't mind the fact that students were placed in houses that would benefit them more than another, but it was the isolation that irked him.

They stopped as they watched Professor McGonagall silently place a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the school, she put the sorting hat on its place. Merlin did a double take. That sorting hat just kept getting uglier and uglier. The hat twitched and it sang.

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. Merlin looked at Isaac, who did not pay attention at all.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said.

"Abbott, Hannah!" A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down.

A moment's pause—

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

And the cycle began.

* * *

This was absolutely _boring_.

Isaac couldn't stand waiting like a customer on hold. It quenched it a little bit with each of the students' expressions—like one looked white as a printing sheet, and another looked like he was about to explode with either excitement or nervousness. He couldn't even tell with all that was happening up there.

Although, he chose not to look like an uninterested dick, but actually smiled and had the decency to look like he didn't see it coming from a mile away which was bruising his ego quite a bit. Geez, it was easy acting nervous with all the children around him excluding Merlin. This guy had been through this quite a few times. He had the right to look like he didn't give a shit, but Merlin wasn't an asshole. Merlin was that sweet little cinnamon bun that makes him want to throw up.

Isaac knows he's being a bit of a downer at the moment, but come on! Cut him some slack! He'd rather read his physics textbooks than be here right now, but curiosity and his duty forced him to be here.

Back to the point of all this, one thing was clear; some of his batch mates did have some damn ridiculous names. Susan Bones? The name just sounds like it came out of a murder book. Terry Boot? Geez, he has more luck with the ladies getting made into shoes.

Don't get him started on Brocklehurst! Jesus. It sounded like someone just handed him a new German dish, full of lamb's intestines, pork guts, and hopeless dreams. And then, there's Lavender Brown. Who thought it was a good idea to combine two colours together? Next thing Isaac knew she has a sister named Pink Canary, or Navy McViolet. On the plus side, the name might sell if it was a beauty product.

Bulstrode? That's bullshit. The bull never fucking strode, it charged; charged the hell out of it that the bull just kebab'd el señorita to say adiós to her amigos. Then Crabbe went on and turned out to be in Slytherin which surprised Isaac. Next, Finch-Fletchley…Can this not sound more British than it actually is? (God, Isaac's gonna die somewhere in these grounds.)

After some Irish kid named Finn-wats-it said aloha to the lion hearts, it was his turn.

"Gabor, Icarus!"

The seer looked up, giving McGonagall a smile; almost saying, _Yes, dear?_

God, how embarrassing would that be! He sighed, noting the silence in the room. Isaac walked up to the stool, glad that the wire of his earphones was hidden. He sat on the stool with his hands clasped together. And the stern professor had placed the hat on his head. This was one of those days since his letter that was truly nerve-racking.

" _Difficult. Very Difficult, indeed…"_

" _Do you mean that in a good way or a bad way?"_

Isaac smirked.

" _You are friends with Emrys, correct?"_

" _Yes. And do people really call him that?"_

" _Well, yes. That is his name that was given to him since the dawn of time."_

" _It reminds me of a pair of shoes I found that were called Emrys."_

" _Strange, you are."_

" _Indeed, I am."_

" _You are brave, loyal, and determined."_

" _Stop it! You're making me blush."_

" _Interesting choice of jest."_

" _Well, it's sort of how I am."_

" _You are very intellectual in many fields. Very curious."_

" _Okay, can we cut the crap and announce my House? I already have an idea what it is."_

" _Alright then."_

"SLYTHERIN!"

A cheer broke out and Isaac proudly marched down to the Slytherin table. He didn't miss his sight of Merlin clapping for him happily, giving him one of those goofy smiles. Dear lord, help Isaac make it through the year with that dork. He cast a glance at Draco, who was pleased, clapping for his friend. Blaise also clapped, giving him a smile when Isaac looked his way.

He met up with his new housemates and was surprised to be in the Green House. The house was actually quite polite as he sauntered towards them, taking a seat near Crabbe, who clapped his back roughly.

It all when silence and the process began again.

After him came the bushy dame of glory under the limelight, Hermione Granger. Well, he expected her name to be more…boring and bossy since it would match her personality quite well. (He jests). Isaac had to admit she might be Granger Danger when it equivocates to the knowledge of magic, but Granger Danger could be Zero Nature when it comes to science. Or maybe she isn't, he wouldn't know, but since she's a muggle-born, she might surprise him with some muggle knowledge up her sleeve.

Although, pretty much her sorting into Gryffindor and not to Ravenclaw surprised the heck out of him that he just asked his conscience if he was going crazy. Apparently, he wasn't after the polite applause from the Gryffindor house.

Next was Alicia Gordon sounds cool—maybe it's because her last name is Gordon. It would bring Isaac so much delight if her father's name is Jim Gordon. Come on! Gotham's crime-catching detective could be out there as a muggle or a wizard.

Note: Goyle is a Slytherin. WTF?!

Anyways next is that shy round-faced boy which happened to be named Neville Longbottom. You cannot believe the pity that is going through Isaac's mind or the actuality of cringing if he ever owned that name. It was one thing to be named Neville, but it was another to have the last name Longbottom. That certain innuendo will haunt him for life. Isaac's not kidding anymore; his name would be sexual joke of a lifetime like Biggerstaff or something. Not to mention reading the hobbits smoke Longbottom leaf would never be the same again. Although other than that, he seemed like a nice dude with hidden potential especially when he got sorted to Gryffindor.

The seer shrugged off the name, moving to the next poor bastard. And apparently that poor bastard happened to be Morag MacDougal. He had to choke down the laugh he was about to give but muffled it with biting his cheeks. Jesus Christ! Morag MacDougal? That must be the worst one yet! MacDougal is something he could ride with in their magical rollercoaster of school, but Morag? What was going on in her parents' mind when they named her that? The girl's name sounded like a desolate planet in the outer rim of the solar system no one would visit.

"Draco Malfoy."

It was getting harder to remain poker faced especially when he "swaggered" to the stool. Isaac could hardly keep it together. When the hat shouted Slytherin, Isaac clapped, grinning like a maniac for Draco. The Mini-Dom (yes, he still calls him that) sat beside him, grin still in place.

There were a bunch of semi-normal other names that included: Mary-Anne Mordo, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, two Indian twins named Patil, Sally-Anne Perks, and then the man of the hour.

Harry freaking Potter.

The boy wonder stepped forward as skinny as a stick he found lodged between his neighbour's eye sockets (True story). Almost immediately and expectantly, the whispers broke out, making him feel a little insane. Many craned their neck to see such a celebrity—even the hyper nuts besides him which tempted him Isaac to push them down, but he had to admit that he was curious. Potter sat on the stool and the hat was on his head.

And then, they waited.

It took almost forever for the sorting hat to announce that Harry is to be in—

"GRYFFINDOR!"

The boy took off and the lion hearts just went berserk. It was like a house on fire with them yelling like they won a football match. The silence took over again and then, Merlin's name was called.

"Redford, Marcus!"

Everyone looked at Merlin next to a freckly ginger. There were whispers around the hall. Apparently, the Redford name was just as well known in Hogwarts. And Isaac found himself thinking what Merlin was thinking.

* * *

Merlin confidently walked up the stairs. It wasn't an arrogant walk, but one that is determined. It made have sent the Houses into a whispering spree which made him wonder why. For Harry Potter, it was expected, but with him, not exactly. It would if they knew who he truly was, but they don't know. The whispering stopped when he had sat on the stool and the hat was put on his head.

"AH!" the hat exclaimed. "Very interesting!"

Merlin tried not to roll his eyes. The sorting hat always liked to make those watching think some serious mental search was being conducted. And it paid off very well, all of them (except Isaac) were surprised, considering this was the first time the hat ever spoken up out loud since his little song aside from the Houses. Little did they all know that the real question was not what house he would be placed in but what house he would choose for him to be in?

Everyone watched the hat, intrigued by its immediate response. Merlin struggled not to laugh, knowing the hats game.

" _So we meet again Emrys."_

" _I told you not to call me that."_

" _I call you by your name."_

" _My name is Merlin."_

" _Ah, but you ARE Emrys."_

Merlin rolled his eyes. This happened every time.

" _Are you sure you can't place me this time? Can't I know at least where you would place me if you could?"_

" _I am sorry Emrys, but it is not my place to judge you so. You must choose for yourself."_

" _I am not sure where I should be."_

" _You come with a purpose, you are not merely here to spend your time."_

" _No… I must protect Harry."_

" _So Gryffindor?"_

" _I don't know. Is it possible to protect him while in another house? Would I really have an option to go anywhere else?"_

" _You are Emrys. Though it may be difficult I have no doubt you could find a way."_

Merlin thought about this for a moment. The hat had faith, but trusting a hat would do him little good. He had to find the answer within himself. And so he thought, searching through his mind and sorting through memories, recent and old.

If he was in Gryffindor, then he would always be close to Harry, able to protect him. Yet, this might appear suspicious. If he were in a different house, would he be able to protect him? Merlin thought. Slytherin had combined classes with Gryffindor for the most part. Slytherin was, after all, his first House, but the way it was now, wasn't the same Slytherin he joined all those years ago. Yet the promise he made long ago to Salazar clung to his mind. He made him a promise to help those within his house.

Merlin never broke his promise.

Thinking more on the matter, Merlin realized something else. Salazar was right. He was a man on a mission. He knew what he wanted and all he needed to do was figure out how to get it. No matter how much Merlin wanted to be pure, and good… No matter how loyal and brave he was for those he cared about… And no how head strong and wise Merlin could be, he was more than anything, a man lead by destiny. While he may be a pawn, he made his own choices. He may be a tool of the Old Religion, but he had his own reasons for doing the things he did. Merlin was a man on a mission, and he wouldn't allow anything or anyone to stand in his way, no matter what the cost.

Merlin was destined for greatness. He was put on a path he could not control, but he could make it his own. And he could show others that this could be their choice too.

" _I know what it has to be."_

" _Very well."_

The hat called it out and everyone had been quite shocked to hear the outcome.

"SLYTHERIN!"

* * *

Isaac watched as it took a few good minutes before the hat could announce Merlin's House. It was surprisingly (and unsurprisingly) Slytherin. Surprising since the dude could hardly hurt a fly if it didn't do anything wrong. He's a sweet cinnamon roll that's been given to a roughhouse. Unsurprising since Merlin is slick and sly like a fox on an icy floor.

It wasn't like Isaac blames the hat or Merlin. It's probable that Merlin was thinking what strategic position he would have for him to become close to the Boy-who-lived. And it was said that the Great Merlin was a Slytherin, and why not be a Slytherin again?

The House had proudly cheered with Isaac and Draco. Merlin sat opposite of Isaac and Draco, grinning one of those goofy smiles. The roll call went on until Blaise was called, entering Slytherin.

This year might not be so bad.


End file.
